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CATMUR’S CAVE 


BY/^ 

RICHARD Fowling 

AUTHOR OF 

'^THE MYSTERY OF KILLARD,’^ “THE WEIRD SISTERS,’' “AN ISLE OF 
SURREY,” “A BAFFLING QUEST,” ETC. 



<3 *^ 7^7 


NEW YORK 

NATIONAL BOOK COMPANY 

3, 4, 5 & 6 MISSION PLACE 


1 


T2-3 


Copyright, 1891, 

BY 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY. 


All rights reserved. 


CATMUE’S CAVE 


CHAPTER I. 

catmur’s mammoth caves. 

“ Catmur’s Mammoth Caves of Art ; of Giants and 
Dwarfs, and other Human Wonders ; of Lions and 
Tigers, and other wild beasts ; of African and Asian 
Magic ! 

“Mammoth Art! Mammoth Beast ! Mammoth Man I 
“ Magic from the Nile and the Ganges ! 

“ Catmur’s Caves of Mammoth Marvels ! 

“ The Greatest Show 
“ UNDER 
“ The Earth ! ! 

“ Catmur’s Show 1 
“ Clayton Junction. 

“ Entrance, Six Pence 1 ! I 
“ Two Shows a Day : 2.30 and 7.30 ! 

‘ Marvellous W orks of Art, One Shilling Each ! ! 
“ Entrance, Six Pence ! ! I ” 


6 


CATMUE'S CAVE. 


Clayton is the great railway junction at the south 
side of the Thames. It is situated in a densely-peo- 
pled neighbourhood. It owns a population greater 
than to-day crowns or surrounds all the hills of 
Rome. 

The district is unoppressed by the magnificence 
of the West End, uncorroded by the squalor of the 
East. Kow and then it produces crimes striking 
enough to set philosophy wagging his head. But 
its tragedies lack the sheer ferocity which makes 
passwords to fame. 

It is heavy, dull, sodden, uninteresting. 'No agita- 
tion has ever been set going to raise its moral head. 
It has no tone, no voice even. In the concrete it is 
unknown. Hundreds of thousands of people live 
around Clayton Junction more hidden from society 
than the aboriginal pigmies of Africa. No judge of 
the High Courts of Law or peer of Parliament has 
ever seen it from its own pavements. It has neither 
hangman nor poet. It is an urban land of Hodge. 
It has no hope of promotion, no dream of ambition. 
Ho thought of the future beyond to-morrow. 

In the main it is well-fed, comfortable, solvent. 
Its virtues are humble and kindly. Its vices com- 
monplace, uninteresting, shocking. Its normal atti- 
tude is placid. 

Nothing soul-stirring ever occurs within its bounds. 


CATMURS CAVE. 


7 


As far as it is concerned, culture, whether of the 
mind or of the fields, is not even the echo of a ru- 
mour, and questions that trouble the spirits of men 
in universities, nay, the universities themselves, are 
no more to it than the sped light of a dead sun. 

It is easily amused. 

More than a thousand trains pass through it every 
day. They come by high level, by low level, by 
ground level. Ko one man can tell how many sets 
of rails here converge and cross. The engineer of 
each company knows his own metals ; when changes 
are contemplated he makes himself acquainted with 
the metals of other companies. No man can tell 
how many trains may be seen from the high level at 
a given time. Day and night the turmoil of pon- 
derous traffic shakes the hundred brick archways 
that hold the mighty viaducts aloft. Day and 
night the solid ground on which the arches rest 
trembles beneath the thunder of countless iron 
wheels. 

At a point where two low level viaducts converge 
and where the outer row of archways forms one side 
of Railway Avenue, was the entrance to “ Catmur’s 
Mammoth Caves.” 

These Caves consisted of three chambers made of 
one of the deep archways in Railway Avenue — the 
space between the back of this archway and the 


8 


CATMUB'^S CAVE, 


other converging line and of another archway under 
the viaduct at the back. 

The “ Cave ” between the two arches was enclosed 
by upright planks and roofed with corrugated iron. 
At the back of the third chamber formed by the 
second archway lay a piece of desolate waste 
ground. 

In the first of Catmur’s Caves colossal plaster 
statues and casts of fragments of still more colossal 
figures were exhibited. Here plaster busts of the 
Royal Family were sold. 

Along the sides of the middle Cave, the one of 
wood and iron, were ranged the cages of savage 
beasts. Here Geoffrey Monday, the lion-tamer, per- 
formed with lions and leopards, and entered the den 
of the ferocious tiger, Bengal, which had abroad 
killed and devoured one keeper, and which would 
let no human being near him but the swarthy, silent 
lion-tamer, Geoffrey Monday. 

In the third Cave, formed by the second railway 
arch, monsters in human form were exhibited ; the 
giant and the dwarf, the fat woman, the umbrella- 
haired man, the armless lady who with her feet 
knitted stockings for her feet, the legless man who 
lived in a bowl and strolled about on his hands, the 
human shadow, the spotted boy, with other freaks in 
human form. Here, twice daily, Mildred Starr, clair- 


CATMUW8 CAVE. 


9 


voyante, wrought in magic arts stolen from sorcerers 
on the hanks of the sacred Ganges, and of the more 
sacred, the mysterious, the eternal Mle. 

Bartholomew Catmur, whose wife was dead, and 
who had no child, owned all these wonders, and 
claimed for them that they, together with other 
attractions not enumerated, formed the greatest 
show under the earth. 

Thousands came weekly to visit Catmur’s show. 
All who saw it agreed that it was a marvellous six- 
pennyworth. 

In the first hall, or Cave of Sculptures, the most 
extraordinary thing was that such large and excel- 
lent busts of the Royal Family could be sold at a 
shilling each. 

In the second hall, or Cave of Beasts, the most ex- 
traordinary thing was the gentleness and love shown 
by the ferocious tiger, Bengal, towards the silent 
swarthy tamer, Geoffrey Monday. 

In the third hall, or Cave of Magic and Monsters, 
the most extraordinary thing was the beauty of 
Mildred Starr, the young clairvoyante, niece of Bar- 
tholomew Catmur. 

Twice a day Mildred Starr performed in the Cave 
of Magic and Monsters, and neither the audience nor 
the neighbours saw her more. She was Catmur’s 
niece. It was rumoured she had a living mother, 


10 CATMUR'‘S CAVE. 

afflicted in some awful manner which would make 
it better for the poor mother if she were dead. No 
neighbour in Railway Avenue could tell where Mil- 
dred Starr lived. Geoffrey Monday never spoke to 
a soul, and Bart Catmur would answer no question. 
All that could be told for certain was that Bart 
Catmur would allow no man to look with eyes of 
admiration upon his niece. Not a harmless pleas- 
antry must pass between one of the audience and 
the sibyl. Bart Catmur had been known to declare 
that if he found any young fellow lurking about 
his show he would lock him up with Ben — the 
name by which the ferocious Indian tiger was 
popularly known. 

Bart Catmur had the reputation of being rich. 
As there was mystery about Mildred Starr, so also 
was there mystery about Catmur’ s wealth. How he 
made money out of the show no one could tell. 
Taking into account capital invested, rent, food for 
beasts, and the hire of monsters, nothing would 
seem to be left for the owner out of the receipts at 
the door. 

When people said admiringly to the showman : 
“ It is wonderful, Mr. Catmur, how you can make 
it pay.” 

He would say : “ It’s the numbers that do it — ^the 
numbers,” and he being a taciturn man who would 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 11 

never speak when he wished to keep his mouth shut, 
nothing more could he got out of him. 

Then people took into account several contradic- 
tory and conflicting and abnormal and unascertain- 
able items of expense, and found themselves in great- 
er perplexity than ever. Anyone could And out the 
wages of an umbrella-haired man, at Westminster. 
A quotation for giants and dwarfs, to suit cus- 
tomers, could be got by telephone from White- 
chapel. The legless man was an odd lot, and might 
be a drug in the market or rule at a fancy rate, ac- 
cording to the demand. A fat woman was expen- 
sive, but orders could always be executed at Put- 
ney, if time were given. A human shadow and a 
spotted boy could be made up cheap in the New 
Cut out of any damaged lot. The armless lady, 
even if she were not “ general utility,” doing a turn 
in her present line, could be obtained by anyone on 
the outlook for such an article. A lion-tamer was, 
no doubt, a costly item, and Jeff Monday was not an 
ordinary lion-tamer. No other man in his business 
would dare to enter Bengal’s cage. Jeff’s tricks 
with the other beasts were the every-day work of 
men of his trade. But no other living master of 
wild animals would have to face the savage and for- 
bidding tiger Ben, which was more gentle and sub- 
missive than a lamb and more affectionate than a 
dog in the hands of Jeff. 


12 


CATMUE^S CAVE. 


The plaster busts sold freely and were an element 
of attraction to the Caves. 

The performance of Jeff Monday with the tiger 
was a daily cause of wonder and dread, and drew 
more people than the privilege of purchasing the 
Royal images. 

The beauty and necromancy of Mildred Starr 
drew more people than all else together. 

Although her person or performance did not evoke 
applause as loud as followed Jeff Monday’s safe 
exit from the tiger’s den, they dwelt long in the 
mind, and were the considerations which drew 
people to renew their visit. 

The fact that the busts came from abroad might 
enable Catmur to make a profit out of the shilling 
charged for each. A wide difference between the 
pay Jeff Monday got and his worth to the show would 
explain some of Catmur’s wealth. Mildred Starr 
was his niece and might have only a small salary. 
But even with these three grants in, people could 
not figure out Bart Catmur’s prosperity. 

“ On the boards,” no one could be more genial 
than Catmur. In intercourse with his neighbours he 
was gruff, ungracious, taciturn. He had not been 
known to use violence, but people felt he was a dan- 
gerous man, and said he would be fittingly matched 
with Ben in the tiger’s most savage mood. 


CATMUE'S CAVE. 


13 


Whatever may have been the truth about the 
plaster busts, it was fortimate for a vain and greedy 
man like Bart Catmur that two members of his 
troupe, the two principal members, made little or no 
inroad on his treasury. 

“What do you want?” said Catmur to Jeff when 
engaging him after buying Bengal. “You’ve been 
with the tiger a year. I allow he would not be much 
use to me if you did not go with him. You may 
speak up. You may open your mouth fairly wide.” 

“ I want food,” said the dark, silent lion-tamer. 

“ You shall have four meals of ortolans a day, if 
you wish.” 

“ Clothes.” 

“ I’ll buy the left-off coronation robes of a king for 
you.” 

“ Tobacco.” ■ 

“A pound a day if you can smoke it.” 

“ Straw to sleep on near the tiger.” 

“ You shall have a four -posted bedstead of state . 
What else?” 

“ And the tiger.” 

«yyh— ew! But he is mine. I have bought 
him. You can’t have him. What money do you 
want ? ” 

“ I want no money. I have neither kith nor kin. 
I have nothing on earth but the tiger. If you let me 


14 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


be with him I shall only need what I said. I only 
want to be with him always. We understand one 
another, the tiger and I. I have nothing else to care 
for, and he will have no one but me. We love one 
another. If you take him away from me I will kill 
myself. I have no people. I have not even a name. 
They call me Monday because I was found on a 
Monday. I love the tiger and he loves me. I love 
nothing else, and he would kill anyone else who 
went near him. Look at him ! He would die for 
me now ! Give me what I ask and leave me with 
him always. I need no more. Some day he will 
forget I love him, and turn on me and kill me. I do 
not care. What good will money be to me then ? 
When he turns on me it will be time for me to die. 
Ho you agree ? ” 

“ Ay,” said Bart, somewhat awed by the swarthy 
man, whose eyes now burned and blazed like glow- 
ing coals when he talked of separation from the 
beast, now grew large and soft and liquid when he 
spoke of his love for the beast. Bart Catmur kept 
his agreement with Jeff Monday and never interfered 
with man or beast. 

Catmur was greedy and grasping and wanted 
everything ; his lion-tamer wanted nothing but food 
to eat, straw to lie on, tobacco to smoke, and the 
company of a beast that would be valueless without 


CATMURS CAVE. 


15 


him, and with him would help to make a fortune. 

When, after the first success of Mildred Starr in 
her performance, Bart Catmur discussed terms with 
her, she said, “ Money ! What do I want of money, 
uncle ? How could I take money from you f Have 
you not done everything for my mother since her 
awful accident ? All my life is yours, and all my 
love and life are hers. I can never repay you. I 
have everything I want when I have my mother — 
everything I care for in the world when I have her. 
All else I have is yours — yours — yours — a thousand 
times, my good, kind, generous uncle Bart.” 

Bart Catmur was lucky when arranging with the 
lovely clairvoyante of his show, the exquisite, dark- 
eyed, dreamy young girl whose mysterious beauty 
haunted visitors like a revelation in a dream, and 
drew them back again and again to lose their wonder 
of her in trance-like musings over the sweet, dark 
magic of her beauty. 

“ I have the busts,” Catmur thought, “ and the 
Royal Family are profitable patrons. I have the 
tiger, and the tiger is Jeff, and Jeff is cheaper to 
keep than the tiger. I have my idiot sister Ellen 
Starr, and the girl will stay with me for love of her 

until The girl is a good income now. She 

will one day soon, when I am ready., be a gold 
mine.” 


16 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


CHAPTER II. 

CATMUR PREPARES FOR A VISITOR. 

NoTwiTHSTANDmo Ms Wealth and the advantageous 
terms on which he had engaged the two principal 
members of his company, and the profit derived 
from the Royal busts, and the unfailing patronage 
of the public, the owner of the Mammoth Caves had 
not a quiet mind. If things only went on as they 
were now going he should, even out of the show 
alone, make a respectable fortune. The takings at 
the door were satisfactory, and whatever the neigh- 
bours might think, Catmur’s profit out of the busts 
was substantial. True, no one else could sell such 
busts at the price he took for them. There was a 
mystery about them, but mystery is an excellent 
article in the stock-in-trade of a showman. 

Money was the god of Catmur’s idolatry. He 
worshipped no other, and he would do anything for 
his god. He wanted everything he saw. He had a 
greedy mouth, a predatory eye. He wanted every- 
thing, but money most of all. How fortunate for 
him that Mildred Starr wanted only to be with 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


17 


her afficted mother, and that Jeff Monday wanted 
only food and clothing, tobacco to smoke, straw to 
sleep on, and the right to be with the only creatnref 
that understood and loved him, Ben, the savage 
tiger. 

To Catmur’s mind all this was good for the present. 
Any person menacing the existing condition he would 
treat as a foe. Anyone who deliberately threatened 
it he would regard as a venomous enemy. It had 
not until lately occurred to him to consider how he 
should feel or act towards a person who dared to 
interfere with the great stroke for future fortune 
which he had in his mind, and to which he might be 
able to give efficiency in a short time, for, rich as 
Catmur was, his present wealth he considered only 
as an earnest of what he hoped to obtain. 

Catmur did not wear his heart upon his sleeve or 
give his confidence to any man. There were secrets 
in his life which if disclosed would ruin him in the 
present, and render grotesquely impossible all hope 
of realising his scheme of ambition in the future. 

He looked on his trade in the busts with grave 
anxiety. He regarded the seclusion of Millie as ab- 
solutely essential to his great game. If Ben did turn 
on Jeff some day and kill the lion- tamer, why, it 
would be no more than the fortune of war. But if 
anything went wrong with the busts, or if Millie 


18 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


should be drawn out of her seclusion, he would con- 
sider himself the victim of malignant fate, if he 
could not trace the disaster to malignant man; if 
the disaster befel and he could trace its origin to 
malignant man, well, it would be bad for that malig- 
nant man. 

And now Bart Catmur was troubled in his mind. 
He suspected danger in the air. 

A little wliile before Christmas he became aware 
that a tall, handsome young man, whose beard and 
moustaches were raven black, and whose forehead 
was very white, and whose eyes were very dark and 
close together, sharp and bright, and who always 
wore very white collar and cuffs and a blue necktie, 
visited the Caves three or four times, then ceased to 
appear for a time, and after Christmas turned up once 
more and for a few weeks came every other day. 

During the year that Millie had been before the 
public scores of young men, and many men who 
could no longer be called young, had testified in one 
way or another to the extraordinary beauty of the 
girl. With these every-day admirers he had no seri- 
ous difficulty. He gave them plainly and emphati- 
cally to understand the sibyl did not come down from 
the dais either literally or figuratively, and that no 
words beyond words necessary to the performance 
were to be addressed to her. 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


19 

In the Cave of Sculptures and the Cave of Beasts 
Catmur posed as the humorous man of the world 
who could bandy pleasantries and give and take. 
In the Cave of Monsters and Magic he became col- 
lected and reserved. Once the clairvoyante stepped 
upon the dais his face grew forbidding, and he be- 
came the stern and inflexible guardian of secret arts 
and the name and person of his niece. 

But with this tall, young dark man of the white 
shirt-collar and cuffs and forehead, and the bright, 
sharp ? dark eyes, matters were different. I twas 
plain that, unlike the others, this young man was 
not merely a fool, and from a letter which Bart Cat- 
mur received towards the end of January it was 
plain this young man knew something which Cat- 
mur would have given a good deal he did not know. 
What that something was Catmur could not deter- 
mine. 

At eleven o’clock in the forenoon of the last 
Wednesday in January Bart Catmur was in the 
Caves alone. He was expecting a visit from the 
frequenter so much in his thoughts of late. 

On the previous Monday the young man had ap- 
proached Catmur in the Cave of Sculptures during the 
performance, and said, “ Mr. Catmur, permit me to 
offer you my card. I wish to speak to you on an im- 
portant private matter. I shall write asking you to 


20 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


favour me with an appointment. I give you my 
card so that you may recognise my name when you 
get my letter. Good-evening.” 

Before Catmur could say a word the other was 
gone. Catmur read on the card, “ Mr. Hugh Lux- 
more.” “ It looks like the name of a professional,” 
thought the showman, “ and yet he isn’t a profes- 
sional — he’s too deep for a pro. I don’t like his looks. 
I don’t like him. I don’t like this. I don’t like the 
whole thing.” 

Tuesday morning brought a note from Mr. Hugh 
Luxmore. It said that he had lately been on the 
Continent ; that he had a plan whereby he was sure 
money could be made out of the importation of works 
of art, and that he was in possession of facts and 
ideas which would greatly interest Mr. Catmur. 
Would that gentleman grant him the favour of a 
private meeting ? 

Catmur answered, appointing to see Mr. Luxmore 
in the Caves on Wednesday at a quarter-past eleven. 
He was now awaiting that gentleman. Until one 
o’clock he did not expect any member of his com- 
pany to arrive. One of the great conveniences of 
the Caves Avas the piece of waste ground at the back. 
This allowed a private approach to the door at the 
rear of the Cave of Monsters. At night no one slept 
in the place but Jeff Monday. He went every fore- 


CATMUR'8 CAVE. 


21 


noon to Catmur’s private house to do odd jobs and 
for a breath of air. He and Catmur carried the only- 
keys of the outer doors. 

Bartholomew Catmur was slightly under middle 
height, thick-set without stoutness, and strong and 
active for a man approaching sixty. His face was 
round and red and close-shaven. He had small grey 
eyes and a straight, hard, lipless mouth. His rough 
grizzled hair was cut close to a round bullet head, 
set on a short thick neck. The face was capable of 
an expression of rugged good humour, and that ex- 
pression it usually wore to the public. 'Now as he 
walked up and down between the shuttered cages, 
all of which were on wheels and closed, the face was 
set, determined, savage. 

As he plodded heavily up and down on the thick 
sawdust he thought : 

“ What this young gentleman knows will make 
more difference to him than to me. What he has to 
say he can say here.” 

He paused in his walk and looked around him at 
the closed cages with an evil smile. 

“No one can ever hear us.” Casting his eyes aloft : 
“ The trains make plenty of noise to drown our voices 
if we come to words.” 

Suddenly he approached a cage in the middle of 
the left-hand row, drew out a pin and let the heavy 


22 


CATMUWS CAVE, 


swing shutter fall with a long clang. From the floor 
of the cage a scarred, battered, huge, terrifying head 
was raised over a long, lean, lank, striped side, and 
turned with blinking eyes upon the light. With a 
yawn and a loud thump the head fell back upon the 
wooden flooring of the cage. 

“And if we come to blows,” muttered Catmur, 
“ why, the open door of Ben’s cage would account 
for anything that might happen, and,” kicking the 
ground at his feet, “ there’s plenty of sawdust if any- 
thing does happen before Ben gets his chance of 
number two.” 

Catmur stood with eyes flxed on the ground lost 
in thought. 

All at once he moved to a small square table in 
the middle of the floor, and took from the drawer 
the long, sharp knife used when cutting up food 
for the beasts. He flung the knife on the table, 
muttering, “ It’s too big to carry. ’Twill be as handy 
there.” 

At the sound of the opening drawer the tiger 
sprang up, and, recognising the knife, uttered a sav- 
age growl, followed by a roar that shook the roof 
with horrible reverberations. Then, with lowered 
head and frenzied eyes and lashing tail, the tiger 
moved up and down inside the bars, sawing the air 
with grating snarls, ravenous, mad for food. 


CATMVRS CAVE. 23 

“ Not yet, Ben,” said Catmur, wiping his forehead 
with the hack of his hand — “ not yet.” 

The tiger lashed his tail and ran up and down the 
cage, rolling back his lips from his hideous yellow 
fangs. 

A bell tinkles in the outer Cave. 

“Patience, Ben,” said Catmur, closing up the 
shutter of the cage. “ Patience, Ben. Here’s Mr. 
Luxmore.” And having swung up the huge shutter 
and secured the hasps, Catmur hastened to the front 
door and admitted the young man. 


24 


CATMUKS CAVE, 


CHAPTER III. 

TWO VEESIONS OF THE ACCIDENT. 

The waste land at the back of the Caves owed the 
fact that it had been put to no use to four causes. 
No highway ran through it or near it ; the ground- 
level railways cut it up into unprofitable lots ; on 
one edge of it lay worked-out sandpits, and on 
another stood a gas-house. The outline of it was so 
torn and jagged and irregular as to defy definition, 
except that it was rudely triangular. Its surface 
was scarred, broken, seamed ; with here and there a 
patch of scrubby grass, and here and there bald 
patches, and here and there mounds of engine-ashes, 
and here and there hillocks of gas-house refuse. 
Years ago the land had been used as a dairy farm, 
and in the middle of it the farm-house still stood, 
sole relic of its pastoral time. 

In this house in the desert of man’s making lived 
Bartholomew Catmur with his sister Ellen Starr 
and Millie, clairvoyante of Catmur’s Caves. The 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


25 


real name of Catmur’s sister was Taylor, but for 
many years, long before the girl burst in her fresh 
young beauty on the audience at the Caves, the two 
had at Catmur’s desire adopted the name now borne 
by both. 

Mrs. Starr was a tall, slender, gentle-mannered 
woman of forty-five. Already her black hair was 
turning grey. Seventeen years before a terrible acci- 
dent befel her, and from that day to this her mind 
to everything occurring before that accident was 
dim and uncertain — for all practical purposes a blank. 
She knew that her name had been Catmur, that she 
had been married and left a widow with a young 
child, that something appalling had happened to her, 
that in the accident which had befallen her she had 
been to blame, and that Millie was her child, now 
grown up into womanhood. 

She was perfectly submissive and gentle, the gen- 
tlest creature on earth. She did as she was asked 
with a smile, and never complained or repined. She 
had no whims or oddities. Her reason was very 
weak. She depended wholly upon those around her. 
She was incapable of originating thought or action. 
Millie or her brother or the servant had to suggest 
to her the most ordinary actions. She could make 
a fire or cook the dinner or wash up the tea-things 
if anyone set her going; but unless someone told 


26 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


her, she would never think of beginning herself, 
though she always seemed pleased to be at work. 
She was in no way capricious or fretful. She gave 
no trouble, and was free from delusions — except 
one. 

Nothing could get it out of her head but that 
there was something wrong with Millie’s right 
ankle. “ You don’t notice it until you set her on 
her feet, then you can’t but see it.” A thousand 
times she had been assured that Millie’s ankle was 
quite ordinary. A hundred times the girl had taken 
off shoe and stocking, and showed there was no de- 
formity or defect or weakness. To no purpose. Mrs. 
Starr would say with the smile of confident assur- 
ance, “You notice it at once when you put her 
standing up by a chair. The ankle gives way, turns 
out.” 

“ But, mother, I am long past being put standing 
at a chair, and my ankle is quite straight and firm.’ ’ 

“Yes, dear, no doubt you think so. It may seem 
so to you, but a mother cannot be mistaken.” 

Years ago this persistency of his sister about Mil- 
lie’s ankle used to make her brother furious. But 
of late he had given up taking notice of it, beyond 
shrugging his shoulders. 

The newspaper account of that accident seventeen 
years before may be summarised as follows : 


CATMUB'8 CAVE. 


27 


Ellen Taylor, nurse to Mr. John Greyborne, the 
well-known contractor, went out on Friday morn- 
ing, taking Mr. Greyborne’s only child, a little 
daughter of a year old, in the perambulator. Mr. 
Greyborne, who lost his young wife, a Spanish lady, 
at the birth of his daughter, occupies a flat in 
Victoria Street. The nurse had orders from the 
housekeeper to go to St. James’s Park and remain 
there with the child for two or three hours. Instead 
of following instructions, Taylor went to a house in 
a poor part of Chelsea, where a married brother of 
hers lived with his wife, and where, unknown to Mr. 
Greyborne or his housekeeper, Ellen Taylor had 
a child of her own. Mrs. Taylor took the peram- 
bulator into the lodging-house and remained there 
with her brother and child and her brother’s wife 
for half an hour. She left the lodging-house with 
her young charge and was hurrying over a cross- 
ing when she and the perambulator were knocked 
down. The wheel of the cart passed over the 
head of the child, who was killed on the spot. 
The servant was fearfully injured and remained 
unconscious for days. When she recovered, it was 
found her brain had been so seriously affected, 
either by fright or the fall, that she could give no 
account of the accident, and it was believed she 
could not long survive, or, if she did, that her rea- 


28 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


son must be permanently impaired. At the in- 
quest, Mr. Greyborne broke down more than once. 
No blame was attached to the driver of the cart, as 
it was proved the horse was frightened by a news- 
paper flying across him, and bolted, and at the 
time of the accident was quite beyond the man’s 
control. 

The newspapers published a great deal more par- 
ticulars, but they were not essential. 

At that time John Greyborne was the largest 
railway contractor in the kingdom. He was flfty 
years of age. Two years before he married for the 
first time. While on railway business in Spain he 
met a beautiful girl of twenty, and brought home 
his young Spanish wife, to lose her a twelvemonth 
after, and his only child in another year. 

Shortly after he lost the child he consulted Dr. 
D’ Alligham, his old friend and medical adviser, about 
his health. He had no pain or ache, he ate and 
slept fairly well. 

“Just a little out of sorts,” said the doctor. “ You 
have made a good deal of money ? ” 

“ It’s hard for a contractor while in business to 
say how much he’s worth, but I think I can’t have 
less than half a million.” 

• “ Half a million ! ” 

“Yes. As you know, I married late in life. 


CATMUB-'S CAVE. 


29 


When I was young I was too poor at first and then 
I was too busy to think of marryuig. But I miss 
the two I’ve lost, D’ Alligham. I took to loving late, 
but I liked loving when it came — first the wife 
and then the child — I hadn’t both together, you 
know.” « 

“ I know,” said the doctor. 

“ I suppose I miss them without feeling it in a sen- 
timental way, you know. I’m too old for sentiment. 
But I put it to you in that way, that I must miss 
them without feeling it, you know, and I am going 
to retire.” 

“ I know. And you are thinking of retiring on 
half a million at fifty years of age ? ” 

“ Yes. I have plenty to live on. I could live on 
three hundred a year.” 

“ You could not.” 

“ Oh, yes, I could. I have lived on thirty shillings 
a week.” 

“ You couldn’t live now on thirty thousand a year 
if you retired.” 

« Eh ? ” 

« You’ll have to double that half a million before 
you think of retiring. You’ll have to work harder 
to double that half a million than ever you did for 
that thirty shillings a week.” 

“ But I can never spend even a tenth part of the 


30 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


interest on half a million, and I have nothing to 
work for.” 

“ Mark my words, you’ll have to work harder to 
double that half a million than ever you worked be- 
fore. If you don’t, you must find a new doctor ; you 
must take your case somewhere else. You must not 
come to me again until you have fully made up your 
mind not to leave off before you have that million.” 

You think there’s something in that ? ” 

“ I am sure. Leave that fiat in Victoria Street. 
Take a house. Go away now and get to work at 
once. You’ve been idling I can see. This is the 
time when I give medical advice to patients, and I 
have sick people waiting to see me, and you and I 
must not let our financial talk stand in the way of 
patients. Come dine with me to-morrow, and we’ll 
go into your financial affairs.” 

“ I will. And you think there’s something in it ? 
Eh ? You think I ought to leave Victoria Street and 
take a house and keep at work ? ” 

“ I’m sure a man of your age and with your splen- 
did business reputation and knowledge and expe- 
rience ought not to leave off under a million. And, 
by the way, Greyborne, try not to think about that 
sensation you have.” 

“ Of feeling what I’ve lost without knowing it ? ” 
“ It will pass away.” 


CATMUWS CAVE. 31 

“It comes hard to bear sometimes — even the 
word Spain in a newspaper. We were married on a 
Wednesday and she died on a Wednesday. You 
have heard her sing. Sometimes when I fall asleep 
after dinner and wake up, I listen. I saw a diction- 
ary, a Spanish dictionary, on an old hook-stall to- 
day. I think ’twas that made me come to you 
to-day. I was learning the language, you know, 
and we used to laugh at my gutturals. I’ll dine 
with you to-morrow. After dinner at home now, 
when I wake and start up and listen expecting to 
hear her singing — that’s worst. I’m prepared for 
it any other time hut then, sorrow of the silence, the 
silence takes me unawares.” 

Fifteen years later Mr. John Greyhorne retired 
from business a hale and hearty man, with the mil- 
lion prescribed by Dr. D’Alligham ; and now he lived 
in a fine house in Lancaster Gate, and had for a while 
been getting materials ready for writing his own life. 

Bartholomew Catmur had formed no design of 
writing an autobiography, but if he had given a 
true account of that accident which happened seven- 
teen years before, and of his own part and opmions 
in the matter, it would run somewhat in this way : 

“ My sister, Ellen Taylor, who goes by the name 
of Ellen Starr, was always a fool, now she’s an idiot. 
When she went as nurse to Greyborne she told them 


32 CATMUB'S CAVE. 

she was a widow with no child. She was a widow, 
hut she had a little girl, just the age of Greyborne’s 
baby. My wife looked after Ellen’s child. I hap- 
pened to be at home on the look-out for a job at 
clairvoyance and magic, or conjuring with patter or 
anything of that kind. 

“ When Ellen came into our lodgings the day of 
the accident she left the perambulator in the pas- 
sage below and brought upstairs the Greyborne baby. 
I can’t see much difference in babies, except they 
have different coloured hair or eyes, or are fat and 
lean, or white and yellow. Ellen’s child and Grey- 
borne’s were to my mind both the same, and even 
the mother said she could hardly tell one from the 
other, only her child had an ankle that turned in 
when you set it standing by a chair. 

“Well, my wife was giving Ellen’s child a bath 
when the mother called, and nothing would satisfy 
Ellen but to see how her child would look in the 
grand clothes of the other. So she stripped Grey- 
borne’s child and dressed her own one in the grand 
clothes, and then both women said no one would 
know which was which. 

“ Then Ellen must take her own child out in the 
grand perambulator. W ell, Ellen and her own child 
were run over and Ellen’s child was killed, and 
Ellen herself turned by the accident from the fool she 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


83 


always was into the idiot she has been ever since. 

“No one even suspected the child killed wasn’t 
Greyborne’s. My wife and I heard nothing of the 
accident until the next day. I persuaded partly 
and partly frightened my wife into holding her 
tongue. I told her that as she helped to dress 
Ellen’s child in the clothes of the other she might 
be had up for fraud. My calculation was that 
Ellen’s child being killed and Ellen herself knocked 
silly by the accident, it would be a good plan to 
keep Greyborne’s child, and wait to see if a reward 
for giving it back couldn’t be worked out of Grey- 
borne. He was rich enough to pay a big reward, 
and we could bring up the child as Ellen’s. If Ellen 
came to herself by and by, all would be well. 

“ I didn’t want any bother with the inquest. So 
I got my wife and myself away with Greyborne’s 
child until the inquest was over. Of course I did 
not expect any reward would be offered by Grey- 
borne. How could I? He firmly believed his child 
was dead. He and his housekeeper and half a dozen 
others identified the child by its own looks and the 
clothes. The landlady told how it was brought into 
the house and out again by Ellen. No one suspected 
anything. How could anyone suspect anything? 
It could not be supposed the accident with the cart 
was anything but an accident. 


34 


CATMUR'^S CAVE. 


“ My wife died a year after and never told a soul. 
Ellen never got back the little sense she had. She 
was months in the hospital. When she came out I 
took care to be in the provinces with Greyborne’s 
child. The little thing was two years old before 
Ellen saw her again, and then she took the child for 
her own, always insisting that the child is weak on 
the off foot. 

“ I brought up the child and gave her good school- 
ing, and when she was old enough I taught her all 
I knew of clairvoyance and odd tricks and bought 
new tricks of second-sight for her of an Indian 
juggler. I put the girl in the show partly because I 
knew she’d be a sure draw and partly to get her 
away from Ellen, who Millie fully believes is her own 
mother. Millie thinks she’s my niece. Of course 
she’s nothing at all to me. Her father retired on a 
million. Millie is now old enough to marry. Some 
day soon I mean to tell her it is only Ellen’s mad- 
ness makes her thmk she is Millie’s mother. I’ll tell 
her she is nothing at all to me, but that she is to be 
my wife. Then when we are fast married I’ll go to 
the old man and ask him to give us his blessing, and 
to make a provision for his daughter, or she’ll have 
to go into Ben’s cage to help me make a living for 
her. That will fetch the old man, I should thuik, 
if nothing else will.” 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


35 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE tiger’s knife. 

“Will you walk this way, please?” said Catmur to 
Mr. Hugh Luxmore that Wednesday forenoon. 
“ Take care, or you may run up against some of 
the statues in the dark. We shall have more light 
where the animals are, in the other Cave.” 

“ Thank you,” said the young man in a quick, firm 
voice as he followed his guide. 

They reached the menagerie without saying any- 
thing more. Here, thanks to skylights in the iron 
roof, there was the dull, fiat, spiritless light of a Lon- 
don misty winter day. 

From around came mingled the heavy breathing, 
snoring sounds of beasts sleeping uneasily. Above 
rolled the muffled thunder of innumerable iron 
wheels grinding and clanking under swaying and 
panting trains. 

By the table in the centre of the sawdust-strewn 
floor were some common wooden chairs. Catmur 
pointed to one and said, without looking at his 
visitor, “ Will you take a chair ? ” 


36 


CATMURS CAVE. 


“ You are very good,” said the young man, sitting 
down and casting around him a sharp glance out of 
his deep-set bright eyes. As Catmur took another 
chair and rested his left elbow on the table, so as to 
keep the knife within reach of his hand, Luxmore 
brought his eyes back to the showman. “ You un- 
derstood I wished this to be a private interview ? ” 

“ Yes. We are alone. Only the dumb beasts can 
hear us. The beasts that can talk haven’t come yet.” 
He smiled a hard smile and jerked his thumb over 
his shoulder towards the Cave of Human Monsters. 

“ What I have to speak about,” said Luxmore, 
throwing one leg over the other, leaning back in his 
chair at his ease, and fixing his sharp eyes on the 
round, fat, fiorid face of the showman, “ is very im- 
portant ; and if you do not at once see the bearing 
of all, you will, I think, before I have finished.” 

“ I don’t fear missing the bearings of anything you 
may have to tell me,” said Catmur, spinning the 
tiger’s knife on the table with his thumb and finger ; 
“ only remember my time is short ; but we have 
more than half an hour to ourselves.” The blade 
was too heavy to allow of the knife spinning satis- 
factorily, and Catmur stopped its motion, drawing 
the handle nearer to him than it had been. 

“ Quarter of an hour will be more than sufficient.” 

“ V ery well,” said Catmur, making another attempt 


CATMUn^S CAVE. 


37 


to spin the knife, and stopping it so that the handle 
projected over the edge of the table close to his 
hand. “ Go on,” he added, flinging himself back in 
his chair, tightening his lipless mouth and looking 
the young man full in the face for the first time ; 
“ I’m ready to listen.” 

Luxmore seemed on excellent terms with himself. 
His manner was one of bland assurance — the bland 
assurance of a man who out of politeness conde- 
scends to play a game with a man who he knows has 
no chance of winning, no chance of scoring a single 
point which he himself does not concede. 

“ I have been abroad,” said he, returning Catmur’s 
steady stare out of eyes full of meaning. 

“ On business or pleasure ? ” asked Catmur harshly. 

“ Well, partly on business and partly on pleasure,” 
said Luxmore easily, airily. “ I went to Spain on 
business, the business of my employer, and I came 
back through Holland for my own pleasure.” 

“ I understand,” said Catmur gravely. “ But Hol- 
land isn’t a country people face much to for amuse- 
ment.” 

“No, not usually. But I take a great interest in 
art, and there are many fine works of art in Holland. 
Before setting out for Spain I had paid a few visits 
to your admirable entertainment, and hearing that 
you got your wonderfully cheap busts — ^those you 


38 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


sell for a shilling — ^from Holland, I was anxious to 
see the country which could turn out admirable 
works of art at a price which enabled them to he 
imported into this country and sold with profit at 
so low a price. Do you follow me ? ” 

“ Oh, perfectly,” said Catmur through his slightly 
parted lips. He drew his hand across his mouth 
and made a click with his tongue, like a man suffer- 
ing from thirst. 

“ Now, while I was in Holland I had an idea that 
if I could only find an enterprising man in England 
who was on the look-out for a quick way of making 
money I could give him a hint with a fortune in it. 
You will, I hope, excuse me, when I say that after 
seeing the extraordinary value you give to the public 
in your works of art and your entertainment I con- 
ceived the idea of putting the idea before you.” 

“Very kind, I am sure,” said Catmur hoarsely. 
“ May I ask you why you do not carry out the idea 
yourself ? Why do you generously think of me ?” 

“ A most reasonable question,” said Luxmore, with 
a smile and a debonair wave of his hand, “ and one 
which I will answer as frankly as you put it. I 
want something in return for my idea. I am not in 
a position to work it myself.” 

“ What is your idea, and then tell me what you 
want for it?” said Catmur, leaning forward once 


CATMUWS CAVE, 


39 


more and resting his left elbow on the table. He 
kept his right hand on his knee just under the pro- 
jecting haft of the knife. 

“ You import busts from Holland. You sell them 
at the low price of a shilling each. There can’t be 
much profit on them at that. Why not have some 
cast thick and some thin, and manage it so that if 
you stuff the thin ones with something they would 
weigh about the same as the thick ones? You 
could get only thick ones over until the custom- 
house people got used to them. Then when you 
began to slip in thin ones, you could break a thick 
one now and then to show that they were all right, 
and you could stuff the thin ones with tobacco. 
I think it’s a capital idea, and there ought to be a 
fortune for you in it.” 

“ He has found out about the tobacco,” thought 
Catmur. “ That game is up if I cannot square him. 
But what does he mean by saying he has been to 
Spain ? That’s the talk that puts his life in danger.” 

Catmur raised his right hand from his knee and 
tried to spin the knife with his thumb and finger. 
The moment the blade came over the edge of the 
table the knife toppled and fell to the ^ound at his 
feet. The movement of his feet had brushed aside 
the sawdust, and the knife rang loudly on the hard 
ground. 


40 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


A low growl came from the middle cage on the 
left. 

Catmur turned towards the cage and said softly, 
“ Quiet, Ben. It isn’t feeding time just yet. Quiet, 
beast, you’ll get your dinner soon.” He did not 
stoop for the knife, but left it on the ground be- 
tween his feet. 

The tiger yawned loudly, grumbled, and was 
still. 

“There is something in what you say, but it 
would want to be kept private — very private,” said 
Catmur, looking thoughtfully at the knife on the 
ground and working the haft up on one of his feet. 

“ I have not mentioned it to a soul but you.” 

“You want money, I dare say — a good deal of 
money — for your idea ? ” 

“Not a penny.” 

“ Eh ! ” cried Catmur, falling back in his chair with 
astonishment, and regarding with distended eyes the 
first man who had ever approached him on busi- 
ness without a view to money. “ Not a penny, and 
you have found out the secret of the cheap busts?” 

“ Mr. Catmur, I have a confession to make,” said 
Luxmore, leaning forward with his elbows on the 
table, and dropping his forehead on his hand. “ I saw 
your show before I went abroad. I am a young 
man. I have the feelings of a young man. I was 


CATMUTVS CAVE. 41 

greatly impressed by something I saw at your 
show.” 

“ Impressed with the excellent value they are for 
the money?” said Catmur, with the manner of a 
man who is helping the other. “ I am not unreason- 
able. I don’t mind coming to terms with you about 
the busts.” 

“No. I am not speaking of the casts. The cheap- 
ness of the casts filled me with wonder, and I made 
it my business to find out about them, for I gathered 
from what I could hear that you did not care for 
young men hanging about the show, or for admitting 
them into your private circle, and I wanted to know 
something that would put me on a different footing 
in your sight from other young men.” 

“I see. You wanted to get me in your power, so 
you ferreted out all about the tobacco that comes 
over in the thin statues.” 

The young man took no notice of Catmur. 

“ I thought,” went on Luxmore in a voice of shy- 
ness and shame, “that unless I could make you a 
handsome offer, I would have no more chance of 
being admitted to your private circle than any other 
young man. While in Holland I thought of the 
matter of t!ie statues, and now I should be delighted 
to make you a present of the idea if you will be so 
kind as to give me an introduction to Miss Starr. 


42 


CATMUW8 CAVE. 


I ask for your countenance to me as a suitor for her 
hand.” Luxmore put both hands before his face as 
in shame or confusion, and was silent. 

“ This man has told me he was in Holland and 
found out about the tobacco. He has not told me 
what he found in Spain. He knows too much and 
Ben is hungry,” thought Catmur. 

Without a word, without a sound, Catmur stooped 
and picked up the knife lying between his feet. Then 
rising stealthily with the knife grasped in his hand, 
he cast one swift glance around. He drew back 
his lipless mouth from his yellow teeth and slowly 
raised the hand holding the knife, and paused a 
moment with the knife poised in his hand. 

Suddenly Catmur’s eye caught a movement in the 
curtains dividing the Cave of Beasts from the Cave 
of Monsters. The hand holding aloft the murder- 
ous knife shook, a sudden pallor spread an ashy hue 
over his round fat face. He stood a moment irres- 
olute. 


9 


CATMUWS CAVE, 


43 


CHAPTER V. 

Millie’s suitors. 

Luxmore’s face was still buried in his hands. He 
saw nothing, suspected nothing, of Catmur’s mur- 
derous intention, of the death that menaced him. 

Catmur’s deadly blow had been arrested by the 
sight of a man’s figure between the curtains dividing 
the menagerie from the Cave of Monsters. 

“ I beg your pardon,” said a low voice, addressing 
Catmur. “ I did not know you were here. I was 
at the house and heard the tiger roar a while ago as 
if he saw food. I came to make sure no one was 
meddling with him. You haven’t been feeding 
him?” 

Catmur had dropped his hand and let the knife 
fall noiselessly to the ground where the sawdust 
was thick. He flung himself down on his chair with 
a sardonic laugh. * 

Luxmore, aroused by the strange voice, raised his 
head, too late to see Catmur drop the knife. Fol- 
lowing the direction of Catmur’s eyes, he saw the 


44 


CATMUR'‘S CAVE, 


intruder. He stared with insolent anger at the man 
in the archway whose sudden appearance had, un- 
known to liim, saved his life. 

“ Oh, no,” said Catmur, in answer to the question 
from the curtains and pressing Luxmore’s foot under 
the table. “We were not feeding the tiger. This 
gentleman and I were only rehearsing part of a new 
play. We are not quite done yet, Jeff. Leave us 
for the present.” 

“ Because,” said the swarthy man in the archway, 
“ no one is to interfere with the tiger — no one is to 
feed him — no one is to have anything to do with him 
hut me.” He backed out of sight as noiselessly as 
he had come. 

“No one has been interfering with the tiger,” said 
Catmur testily as Jeff withdrew. 

The showman was beginning to recover his com- 
posure. When he raised the knife he was frantic 
Avith fury. When he saw the lion-tamer standing 
between the curtains he was seized with terror at 
being caught holding that desperate knife over the 
drooping man. Now that Jeff was gone reaction 
was setting in, and he felt angry with the lion- tamer 
for staying his hand — robbing him of his prey. This 
man Luxmore knew too much to live. He might 
even know more than he had hinted at. If Jeff had 
been half an hour later all would have been safe. 


CATMURS CAVE. 


45 


This idiotic Jeff, who hadn’t the spirit to want any- 
thing beyond food and the tiger, had imperilled the 
game of him who was playing for a million — a mil- 
lion — a million ! With Millie would go all old Grey- 
horne’s money. Greyhorne had no chick or child — 
no soul, as he now thought. If he, Catmur, mar- 
ried the girl and then went to old Greyhorne and 
confessed all, what could old Greyhorne do but take 
his daughter to his arms, forgive his daughter’s 
husband and make his daughter’s husband his heir ? 
And now, here was this interloping jackanapes ar- 
rived with his prying and his significant hints of a 
visit to Spain., whence the girl’s mother had come I 
It was intolerable ! Maddening ! 

Catmur was too much excited to think, to allow 
himself to speak. Luxmore’s manner showed no 
suspicion of that murderously uplifted knife. No 
practical result could now come of this interview. 
Jeff Monday might believe about the play. Jeff was 
not the man to gossip or ask questions if things 
passed off quietly. But if an accident now hap- 
pened to Luxmore, Jeff would remember the up- 
lifted knife, and Jeff ’s sworn account of what he 
saw through the curtains would make a very dan- 
gerous story for Bartholomew Catmur. 

It would not do for this interview between Lux- 
more and himself to end at the present point. He 


46 


CATMUIVS CAVE. 


must gain time to devise a plan. At the moment 
his thoughts were dull and confused. 

He began walking up and down, his eyes bent on 
the ground, his hands clasped behind his back, his 
fat brows drawn low over his small grey eyes. 
After a few moments he said : 

“ I’m sorry, Mr. Luxmore, that man interrupted 
us at such a moment.” At the first sound of his 
own voice self-possession began to return. “ That 
Jeff Monday is a great nuisance, and yet I can’t get 
rid of him. He is the only one who can manage 
Ben, and Ben is an enormous attraction.” 

Catmur paused. With the return of his self-pos- 
session came an invention the boldness of which took 
away his breath. Why not pretend that Jeff, the 
man who wanted nothing but the tiger and food, was 
already a favoured suitor of Millie’s ? Only for the 
ordeal through which he had just passed he would 
have laughed right out as he said, “ You see this 
Jeff Monday gives me no end of trouble, or I may 
better say I have a great deal of trouble on Jeff’s 
account, for he thinks of no one but my niece, and 
my niece, if she has a fancy for anyone, that one is 
Jeff Monday. He did not steal in upon us because 
he thought the tiger was getting food, but because 
he thought you were coming after Miss Starr.” 


CATMUW8 CAVE. 


47 


“ What ! That middle-aged, sooty lion- tamer ? ” 
cried Luxmore, astonished. 

“ Yes. You see women are strange. All of them 
worship pluck. I expect Jeff’s daring with the tiger 
has fascinated the girl.” 

“ But,” said Luxmore decisively, “ you would not, 
you could not, think of giving such an exquisite 
creature to that sick nigger I ” 

“ It is true,” said the other with a malicious grin, 
“ that I might not think much of it, but she might 
think a great deal of it. I’m sure of one thing. Jeff 
has always a loaded rifle in this place, in case any- 
thing go badly wrong with the temper of the beasts, 
and if Jeff found anyone coming here after my 
niece he’d put a bullet through that man as freely 
as he’d shoot a leopard if one of them turned on 
him. He quite startled me when he stole upon us 
just now. If he was only certain of your business 
here to-day, there’s no knowing what might have 
happened. I don’t think you noticed me doing it, 
hut the moment I saw him first I took up the knife 
that was on the table.” 

For a while each man was busy with his thoughts. 
An idea was beginning to glimmer before Catmur’s 
mind, but it had not yet assumed definite shape. “ I 
must get this Luxmore man out of the way some- 
how,” he thought, and he waited anxiously the de- 


48 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


velopmenfc of the idea glimmering in his mind. It 
was all very well to tell Luxmore that Jeif was 
Millie’s lover, hut Jeff cared for no woman in 
the world — for nothing in the world but the 
tiger ; and Millie cared for no one in the world 
but his idiot sister, whom, she believed to be her 
mother. 

“ I must play my trump card,” thought Luxmore, 
throwing his arm over the back of his chair, and 
clearing his throat with the ostentation of one at- 
tracting attention to an important statement. He 
said aloud : 

“ Mr. Catmur, I have told you who I am ; I have 
not told you what I am.” 

“ No,” said Catmur, walking up and down with 
eyes fixed on the ground. “ But, Mr. Luxmore, I 
guessed.” 

“ Guessed ! ” cried the young man profoundly 
astonished. “ Guessed what I am ! Impossible ! 
You may know what I am, but you couldn’t pos- 
sibly guess. Pray what am I ” 

“Well,” said Catmur, pausing before the young 
man for a moment and then going on with his walk 
up and down the menagerie, “ I took you for a 
smuggler.” 

Luxmore clapped his hands and burst into a loud 
laugh. “Capital! Capital! Nothing could be bet- 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


49 


ter. You know, I have the very appearance of a 
smuggler ! But, of course, Mr. Catmur, we all are 
liable to judge others by our own standards. I am 
not, however, a smuggler. If you grant the request 
I made, you and I could do well together. You and 
I could get on much better together if you have me 
for a nephew than with that dark-skinned man for 
one.” 

Catmur paused in front of his visitor, looked 
meaningly, searchingly, into Luxmore’s face, and 
said slowly, “ It doesn’t seem to me as if you’d take 
informer’s money from the government, even sup- 
posing we did go into the tobacco trade.” 

“ Nothing could be more distasteful to me than 
to interfere with the cheapness of such admirable 
busts of the Royal Family as you import from Hol- 
land.” 

“ If Jeff Monday marries my niece, don’t you see, 
I shall then have my three great attractions secured 
to me. I shall have my niece and Jeff and the 
busts. I own I don’t care much for Jeff as my 
nephew, but if what I have been speaking of. came 
off my three great attractions would still be with 
me.” 

“ I might not care to take a money reward from 
the government, but I might take my revenge of 

someone, and besides I have not yet told you what 
4 


50 


CATMUB'' 8 CAVE. 


I am,” said Luxmore, with weighty significance, as 
he stared up into the face of Catmur above him. 

“ Not an exciseman ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ You’re far too thin for an exciseman. Not from 
Scotland Yard ? ” 

“ Oh dear, no ! ” 

“ I give it up. What are you ? ” Catmur screwed 
up his small grey eyes and fixed his gaze warily, 
scrutinisingly, on the face of the other. He was 
sorry that he dropped that knife. 

“ My name, as you know, is Hugh Luxmore, I am 
private secretary to a gentleman engaged in writing 
his own life.” 

“ I don’t think any private secretary gets as much 
wages as a second-class lion- tamer. I must think of 
my niece. First-class lion-tamers keep private sec- 
retaries themselves,” said Catmur steadily, without 
blinking or turning away his eyes from the stare of 
the other. 

“No doubt,” said Luxmore, throwing himself back 
on his chair, thrusting his hands down deep into 
his trousers pockets, hut without moving his eyes. 
It was a duel in which the spoken words were the 
feints, the implications the thrusts ! “ I am assist- 
ing the gentleman in writing his life. While looking 
through papers of seventeen years ago I came upon 


CATMUE'S CAVE. 


51 


your name. The gentleman’s wife died young 
eighteen years ago. Her portrait hangs in my em- 
ployer’s dining-room. When I saw your name I 
dropped in here to see your show. I fell in love with 
Miss Starr. No man could help falling in love with 
so much beauty. She reminded me of the beautiful 
young wife of my employer. I went to Spain on my 
employer’s business, and there in the form of my 
employer’s dead wife I saw a portrait still more 
like Miss Starr. Do you take me now, Mr. Cat- 
mur? Neither you nor your wife were at the 
inquest.” 

Catmur said nothing, hut again his lipless mouth 
opened and his tongue clicked as though he suffered 
from intense thirst. 

Luxmore went on : “You are a business man. So 
am I. You know too much to let a lion- tamer marry 
Miss Starr. I cannot tell what your plans are, but 
I am sure you and I can come to terms. I have no 
proof. The mere likeness between Miss Starr and 
the portraits is not enough. You have the proofs 
and are waituig your own time to produce them. 1 
asked you to give me this interview, so that all be- 
tween you and me may be quite above-board. If 
you agree to favour me I shall act honourably and 
liberally by you. I am private secretary to Mr. 
John Greyborne. You are a business man and so 


52 


CATMURS CAVE. 


am I. I do not want to beat about the bush any 
longer. If I marry Miss Starr you will get ten 
thousand pounds for whatever proofs you hold.” 

Catmur turned away from the table at which he 
had been standing in front of Luxmore. He resumed 
his walk with one wrist gripped tightly in the other 
hand behind his back, to keep himself from laying 
violent hands on this presumptuous young man — this 
young man who coolly offered him a hundredth part 
of the money which was to be his own for his co- 
operation against himself ! Did insolence and dar- 
ing ever reach such a height before ? But he must 
be calm. This dandified coxcomb must be disarmed 
for the present, and later got out of the way for good. 
How was he to be rendered harmless now ? How 
put away for ever ? Time ! Time ! He must gain 
time. 

At length he spoke, with eyes bent on the ground. 
“ There would be a great deal in what you say, if 
there were anything at all in it, Mr. Luxmore, and 
ten thousand pounds would be a fair price. But 
there’s nothing in it.” He shook his head. He 
must have a few minutes to think. 

“ Good heavens, sir ! Nothing in it ! What do 
you mean ? ” cried Luxmore, starting up from his 
careless attitude and looking at the showman with 
flashing, angry, surprised eyes. “ Do you mean to 


CATMUE^S CA^E. 53 

say Miss Starr is not the daughter of Mr. John 
Grey borne ? ” 

“ What I say or what you say makes little differ- 
ence. What we can prove is the great thiag. Neither 
you nor I can prove your words.” 

“ Not prove them ! ” cried Luxmore, rising from his 
chair. “ Let us be open with one another. Neither 
of us is a fool. If you cannot prove them, what good 
is the whole plot to you ? ” 

“ I did not say there was any plot. As far as I 
am aware there is no plot, except that I do not want 
to lose either Jeff or Miss Starr. Suppose you were 
set about proving your words, how would you do it ? ” 

“ I should be powerless without you. I offer ten 
thousand pounds for your help. That is a large sum 
of money.” 

“ You’d get poor value if I took it. Look at the 
affair from a reasonable point. There may be this 
strong likeness you speak of. I take your word for 
that ” 

“ You would swear the portraits were painted from 
Miss Starr. It was the portrait in Mr. Greybome’s 
dining-room put the idea in my head. The portrait 
in Spain convinced me.” 

“Very well, as far as the likeness goes. But 
what more have we? Nothing. My wife is dead, 
and my sister lost her reason on the day of the acci- 


54 CATMUE'S CAVE. 

dent and never recovered it since.” Catmur spoke 
with the air of a man dismissing hope. 

“Never recovered her reason! ” 

“ Never. She would not help us much. She does 
not believe what you believe about Miss Starr. She 
is sure Millie is her own child, and a mother ought 
to be able to tell. She remembers nothing of the 
accident or the Spanish woman’s child. How could 
she, with a bit of the bone of her skull driven 
into her brain, remember anything ? — prove any- 
thing ? ” 

“A bit of the bone of her skull driven in her 
brain ! ” 

“So a doctor says I took her to long after the 
accident. He said they ought to have found out 
what was the matter at the time. You must own 
you couldn’t go on the likeness — ^the accidental like- 
ness — alone. And you can expect no help from 
Millie’s mother.” ^ 

“ Mrs. Starr can remember nothing at all ? ” said 
Luxmore, frowning heavily. 

“ Why, if she could remember anytliing it would 
be against your plot. Your plot is clever, Mr. 
Luxmore, but Millie is my sister’s child. I’m a fair 
man. I’m willing to come to an understanding 
with you about my patrons, the Royal Family. 
But my sister Ellen could not perjure herself for 


CATMUE'^S CAVE. 


55 


money — she’s too great a fool even for that. Come 
and see for yourself,” and he led his visitor out of 
the menagerie through the Cave of Magic into 
Clayton Flat, the space of dreary waste ground at 
the hack of the show. 


56 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


CHAPTER YI. 

AT THE THRESHOLD OF MILLIe’s HOME. 

Hugh Luxmoee was twenty-eight years of age. 
He had never been in love with any woman. He 
was not in love with any woman now. Mildred 
Starr was not to him what she had been to the men 
Bart Catmur had warned off, a sentiment or a 
passion. He saw in her nothing but the heiress of 
a millionaire. Not that mere money was what he 
sought. The deity he worshipped was not Mammon 
pure and simple, as with Catmur. His god was 
Success. 

Luxmore had been left an orphan young, brought 
up by a kind and generous uncle. This uncle 
because of liis generosity failed in business, failed in 
life, and died just as Hugh finished a good education 
at his expense, and was entering the world in the 
belief that his uncle was rich and that his own 
future would be made easy and prosperous by a 
partnership in Luxmore & Co. Unfortunately there 
was no Luxmore & Co. left. Then the old uncle, 


CATMUWS CAVE. 




57 


being of no further use to anyone on earth, considered 
his affairs, and thought it best to die, and died. 

At first Hugh felt that the whole affair was a 
conspiracy against him. But after nursing his injury 
and wrong for a while he made up his mind, once for 
all, to repine no more, to avoid all his days anything 
like the sentimental crimes of his uncle, and later 
he made up his mind not to fail. 

In time he went a step further, and made up his 
mind to succeed in spite of sentiment — at the expense 
of sentiment — to succeed by all fair means. 

Later still he simplified this resolution and 
dropped out all considerations but the only one 
indispensable to success, which is, that one should 
succeed. 

On Clayton Flat the air was cold and raw and 
dreary and dismal. 

Neither man was inclined for talk. 

Luxmore had sought the meeting full of con- 
fidence. He had gathered from inquiries that 
there would be no chance of gaining access to the 
beautiful young clairvoyante except with the full 
approval of Catmur. That day he had only to 
declare the cards he held to make Catmur throw up 
the game. 

He had not the shadow of a doubt that Millie was 
the daughter of John Greyborne. The cheapness of 


58 


CATMUW8 CAVE. 


the busts of the Royal Family astonished him on his 
first visit to the Caves. They could not be made 
for the money. Then flashed through his mind an 
account of how during the Second Empire, inter- 
dicted newspapers were smuggled over the French 
frontier in plaster busts of Rapoleon III. Smuggling 
of some kind would explain the low price of the 
casts in Catmur’s Caves. So far he took no more in- 
terest in the affair than in explaining to hunself 
what was of mystery to the common herd. He 
would have scorned the thought of making use of 
his guess to the injury of Catmur. He had no de- 
sire to injure anyone. 

When his eyes first lit on Mildred Starr, he was 
paralysed by the overwhelming likeness between the 
living girl and the dead wife of John Grey borne. He 
set himself to find out all he could about Catmur 
and his niece. He learned that the sister of Catmur, 
the supposititious mother of Millie, was afflicted in 
some dire manner, and that the girl was kept in 
complete isolation. He had no notion the elderly 
showman who played the part of uncle had any in- 
tention of marrying this girl. First or last, this 
thought never entered his mind. He now resolved 
to find out all about the busts, so that he might use 
the knowledge with Catmur as a lever to open the 
door to Millie, for no sooner had he come to the con- 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


59 


elusion that Mildred Starr was Greyhorne’s daughter 
than he made up his mind that the millionaire’s 
daughter should be his wife. 

He was sent to the house of the dead wife by Mr. 
Greyborne, on business connected with the autobiog- 
raphy. There he saw a portrait of Mrs. Greyborne, 
painted when she was a girl. This portrait con- 
firmed his conviction that Mildred Starr, of Catmur’s 
show, was the same as the baby Inez Greyborne re- 
ported killed at a crossing m Chelsea, seventeen 
years before. 

Luxmore came home from Spain by Holland. On 
his way he found out how the smuggling was carried 
on. Having this knowledge, he felt absolutely cer- 
tain of success with Catmur. He did not mean to 
injure the showman. He had no objection to Cat- 
mur smuggling tobacco till the crack of doom. He 
would let Catmur know that he had foimd out about 
the tobacco, merely to gain Catmur’s ear. When 
Catmur’s attention was secured he would offer ten 
thousand pounds for the showman’s aid. Only that 
he had forsworn sentiment for ever, he would have 
appeared in his own eyes as an indulgent judge and 
a magnificent patron. 

And now this man had calmly told him there was 
nothing in his whole scheme, that his theory could 
not be proved, was a pure fiction, that the Mrs. Tay- 


60 


CATMUB''S CAVE. 


lor of seventeen years ago was a hopeless idiot, who 
♦ could not he produced in evidence to prove his case, 
first, because of her mental infirmity, and second, 
because she would be dead against his theory. And 
then finally came the most monstrous statement of 
all — ^that this millionaire’s daughter was as good as 
engaged to this lion-tamer. 

Luxmore’s mind was at a dead stop. He came 
prepared to give Catmur ten thousand pounds, and 
if the showman had asked for double that amount, 
for any sum at all in reason, Luxmore would have 
been only too glad to promise it. But Catmur said 
there was no truth in his supposition, or, any way, 
what came to the same thing, that nothing could be 
proved. Could it be that all his dream of wealth 
and greatness was smoke ? 

Catmur had no doubt at all as to what must hap- 
pen. This young man knew too much — knew a 
great deal more than was good for him.- He must - 
be put away. He was a desperately dangerous young 
man. At any moment he might go to the authorities 
about the tobacco. At any moment he might tell 
Greyborne that Millie was the Inez he mourned. It 
might be that Luxmore could prove nothing about 
Millie, but if once the girl even suspected Ellen was 
not her mother, and that all his kindness to the im- 
becile woman and herself had been done to enable 


CATMUB-'S CAVE. 


61 


him to marry her because she was the child of a 
rich old man, then there was no knowing what might 
happen ; only it was absolutely certain at all events 
that Millie would not marry him. Of course, when 
approaching her on the subject of marriage, he must 
not tell Millie she was not Ellen’s child. He must 
tell her that Ellen was not his sister, but the daughter 
of a man to whom he' was under great obligations, 
and that merely for convenience’ sake he gave out 
that he was Ellen’s brother when he found the 
daughter of his old friend destitute m the world with 
an infant child. 

In his career as a showman he had continually to 
draw on his imagination for his bills and speeches 
to the crowd, and descriptions of the objects and 
specimens and performances at his show. But never 
had he devised any fiction so wildly far away from 
fact as that Jeff Monday, the lion-tamer, had ever 
shown more interest in Millie Starr than in the plaster 
cast of the arm of Thothmes II. in the Cave of Sculp- 
tures, or the umbrella-haired man in the Cave of 
Monsters. 

Jeff Monday was the least obtrusive member of 
Catmur’s whole show. In the hours of darkness he 
acted as night watchman. He attended to all the 
beasts. Daily in the forenoon he spent an hour or 
two at Catmur’s house, lending a hand in any rough 


62 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


work, and now and then, when the weather was fine, 
wheeling out Mrs. Starr for a little air in a hath 
chair around Clayton Flat. Not that Mrs. Starr 
was unable to walk, hut that she could not he trusted 
out except when led by the hand or in a hath chair, 
owing to her liability to stray. 

The rest of Jeff’s day was spent about the show, 
and often from one sunrise to the next Catmur never 
exchanged a word with the lion-tamer. 

From long dwelling with beasts of the forest his 
eyes had got that far-away look of theirs. Neither 
his glance nor his thoughts ever seemed concerned 
with things around him, except with the beasts when 
he was performing with them. His face never had 
any expression except rarely when he was gazing 
upon the tiger, intractable to all hut him, and then 
only when he believed himself unobserved, by hu- 
man eyes. Those who had seen the man’s face dur- 
ing those rare moments when he turned to the tiger 
never forgot that look of yearning, melting, over- 
whelming tenderness. It haunted the beholders for 
days. They never forgot it. There was in it a look 
of ultimate love, as though the very soul of the man 
were caressing the hideous brute with tenderness 
too fine ever to be spoken with mortal lips. That 
look of love for the tiger in the man’s face was 
more awful than all the terrors of the tiger’s self. 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


63 


It was the one look of a lonely spirit from its 
prison of loveless solitude into the garden of the 
heart. 

Catmur had seen that look, and ever afterwards 
stood back from Jeff Monday, as may stand back a 
man of blood and rapine who stumbles unawares 
into a sanctuary where a strange man prays by 
night. 

And now Catmur had taken a liberty with Jeff 
behind Jeff’s back, and said that Jeff was in love 
with Millie ! 

Jeff would not know the meaning of the words if 
they were spoken to him. He might or he might 
not resent them if they were spoken and explained 
to him. Catmur had often thought of chaffing the 
lion-tamer about the imbecile widow, with whom Jeff 
was almost as gentle as with the tiger, but then the 
showman remembered the look of intolerable tender- 
ness he had seen Jeff bestow upon the tiger, and he 
never rallied the lion-tamer, not even once. 

“ I taught Millie all the magic and second-sight 
she knows,” thought Catmur, “but there is some 
magic in that man that I could not teach him, that 
no man ever taught him, that he learned either 
Above or Below.” 

Thus, although Catmur was the master and Mon- 
day the man, the master stood back from the man 


64 


catmub:8 cave. 


as from one knowing things Catmur could not 
understand. 

But though the showman felt a nameless respect 
for the lion-tamer, the present was not a time for 
delicate niceties. Luxmore here was threatening 
the edifice it had taken him nearly twenty years to 
build. He meant to marry the girl and get her 
father’s money. He had said recklessly, unthmk- 
ingly, that Jeff was in love with Millie. Out of that 
invention had just sprung into his mind a sure plan 
for Luxmore’s destruction. Half an hour ago he 
raised a knife to do the work in a clumsy and a dan- 
gerous way. If he could only get this young inter- 
loper walking beside him to take the bait he was 
preparing in his mind for him, Luxmore would he 
blotted out, and no one hut Luxmore himself would 
he to blame. 

“ I told you,” Catmur said, turning to the private 
secretary when they reached the house, “ that Jeff 
Monday is thinking of marrying Millie. Come, I’ll 
make a bargain with you. If we succeed we can 
talk about other things. First, you can see Millie’s 
mother and judge for yourself whether she would 
he much good to you in the witness-box. Then I’ll 
tell you how you can cut out Jeff Monday with the 
girl.” 

“ Then you own,” cried Luxmore in great excite- 


CATMURS CAVE. 


G5 


ment, “ that there is something in my theory about 
Miss Starr being John Greyborne’s daughter.” 

I will own nothing just now. Come in, as we 
are here. I’ll tell you my plan when you have seen 
my sister Ellen.” 


5 


(5G 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE SPOKE IN THE WHEEL OF MEMORY. 

Catmur’s household consisted of himself, his sister, 
Millie and Susan, a square-built, low-browed, illiter- 
ate domestic servant, whom Catmur had chosen for 
her thick dulness, and who, he found to his great 
comfort, possessed the invaluable virtue of believing 
what she was told to believe without the will or the 
power of question. If, on being asked why she 
thought the world stood still, she could say, “ Master 
told me,” she would consider the inquiry disposed 
of for ever, as far as it related to her. Not that she 
had any exalted faith in Catmur, but “ Master told 
me ” was a convenient form for getting rid of all 
responsibility and referring the question to head- 
quarters. If master had not told her anything at all 
about the matter, she would never herself get into 
the difficulty of saying the world stood still. If asked 
her opinion, she would say with a vacuous look, 
“Don’t know. I’m sure.” The only thing she was 
sure when left to herself was that she didn’t know. 


CATMURS CAVE. 


67 


Susan admitted Catmur and Luxmore, and told her 
master that Mrs. Starr was in the parlour, and Miss 
Starr was in her own room. 

“We only want to see Mrs. Starr for the present,” 
whispered Luxmore to the showman. He did not 
want to take his mind off the main business. 

Susan was too dull to feel curiosity in the extraor- 
dinary event of her master bringing a stranger to 
the house ; she only felt unsettled and uncomfortable. 

Mrs. Starr, a tall, thin, gentle-looking woman, with 
fresh, youthful colour in her cheeks, sat knitting in 
the parlour window-place. She raised her eyes and 
smiled as the two men entered. Then she looked 
down again and went on with her knitting. 

“ Mr. Luxmore here is a friend of mine, Ellen,” 
said Catmur, with a gesture introducing the young 
man and inviting him to a seat. “ He has an idea 
that Millie may come into some money or something 
if you can only bring yourself to remember what 
happened long ago — you know, the day of the acci- 
dent. Now do the best you can to recollect.” Cat- 
mur was in no hurry. He wanted to think out his 
plan, and he knew nothing could come of this inter- 
view. 

Mrs. Starr smiled at the visitor. Whenever roused 
or disturbed she always smiled. “ It was dreadful,” 
she said in slow, soft accents, “ and I was to blame. 


68 


CATMUE^S CAVE. 


It was all my fault. But I did not see what hap- 
pened, and as I did not see it then I cannot see 
it now. How could I ? ” The expression of the 
woman’s face was one of contented absent-minded- 
ness, not mania or delusion. 

“ But,” said Luxmore, observing the gentle-faced 
woman closely, “ how was it you did not see ? 
Surely you were there ? ” 

“ All at once it happened m a fog — a cloud.” 

“ The accident.” 

“ Accident ? Accident ? Was there an accident ? 
There was an accident, but it was long before, and 
it made Millie’s foot weak — her right foot weak. 
When you stand her against a chair you notice 
it at once.” She looked down. The knitting had 
not ceased. She shook her head softly over the 
unfortunate delicacy of the baby’s ankle. 

“But Miss Starr is grown up now and able to 
walk about, and does not need to be kept up by a 
chair, and has no weakness of the foot,” said Lux- 
more, looking in perplexity at Catmur, who was 
staring out of the window into the murky daylight 
lying on the dreary Flat. 

The showman merely shook his head without 
changing the direction of his eyes. 

Mrs. Starr smiled again and shook her head. 
“You must not tell a mother about her child. Set 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


69 


Millie standing by a chair and you will see the right 
foot is weak. I ought to know. Who can know, if 
her mother does not?” Her tone was as soft as 
though the words were murmured in soliloquy over 
her sleeping baby. 

“ She is always the same,” said Catmur in a low 
voice to Luxmore. “ You will not get anything 
more out of her if you keep at it till night.” His 
plan was now completed in design. 

“The thing I am speaking of may be a matter 
which will come into court, Mrs. Starr,” said Lux- 
more in desperation, “ and what I want to know is 
whether you are quite sure Mr. Greyborne’s child 
was in the perambulator that day seventeen years 
ago you were so unfortunately run over and cruelly 
hurt in Chelsea ? ” 

“ I wish it was brought into court,” said the wo- 
man, leaning forward in her chair and looking from 
Catmur to Luxmore with her quiet, confident smile. 
“ I wish it was brought into court, and then I could 
make it all plain.” 

“ All what ? ” said Luxmore eagerly. 

Catmur shrugged his shoulders and laughed a 
short, sharp laugh, like a bark. 

Luxmore looked angrily at the showman, saying, 
“ Don’t interfere now. Let her speak.” 

“ Let her speak ! ” cried Catmur scornfully. “ Of 


70 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


course ; I’m not hindering her. But for improving 
talk give me a parrot in place of Aer.” 

The young man turned to the imbecile. “ You 
were saying, Mrs. Starr, that if this case went into 
court you could' prove Mr. Greyborne’s child was 
not in the perambulator on the day of the accident.’’ 

She looked at him with the same unruffled smile 
on her gentle face. “ My name was not Starr then, 
and if lawyers say in court it was Greyhorne I’ll 
tell them I don’t remember, but very likely it was, 
as I soon forget. But I can tell them that if they 
set the child standing by a chair they will see 
with their own eyes what I saw with my own eyes 
and felt with my own hands — that the child’s right 
foot is weak. And then, if they won’t take the word 
of a mother — and a mother ought to know — they 
will have to take the sight of their own eyes that the 
ankle turns in.” She nodded her head and looked 
down at her knitting, which had never been inter- 
rupted during the talk. 

“ Are you satisfied ? ” said Catmur, rising. “ I told 
you there was no hope here. But come, I must get 
back to the show, and I have a plan in which there 
is hope, in which there is certain success. As far as 
she is concerned you only waste time. Come here.” 

Catmur approached his sister, and placing his 
hand on her head, pressing back the brown hair 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 71 

streaked with grey from the placid brow, said to 
Luxmore, “ Put your finger here.” 

The woman did not move. Her eyes were fixed 
upon the knitting in her lap. The smile called up 
by the certainty of a mother’s knowledge respecting 
the blemish in her child still rested on her lips. 

Under his finger he felt in the bone of the skull 
a depression an eighth of an inch deep with a surface 
just covered by the tip of his finger. 

“That’s what the doctor spoke of. That’s the 
spoke driven into the wheel of memory. Now come 
away. I have no more time to lose, and I want to 
tell you my plan. This doesn’t amuse you, and it 
doesn’t amuse me. For years and years it has been 
just the same. Not a ray beyond what you have 
seen. Y ou can take her over the same ground again, 
but there’s no new ground. You never can get a 
yard further than you’ve been just now. I told you 
how this would be ; but there’s nothing like seeing 
for yourself. Now let us put her out of our mind 
and talk business.” 

The two men were once more on the desolate 
waste surrounding Catmur’s house. The dull, chilly 
air lay motionless upon the worn, rugged ground. 
The sky was dull, opaque, spiritless. The edges of 
Clayton Flat were blurred with thin grey mist, 
streaked with sodden, faint-blue smoke. From all 


72 


CATMURS CAVE. 


sides came the muffled rattle of railway carriage 
tires, the heavy rumble of high engine wheels 
weighted with ponderous clanking bars. There was 
not a soul in view. The mean curtain of smoke and 
mist cut off the mean, soilless earth from the open, 
wholesome day and the eyes of kindly man. 

“ I have thought the whole thing out,” said Cat- 
mur, catching the young man’s arm, “ and I have a 
plan that cannot fail, if you have the pluck to carry 
it out. Have you ? ” 

Luxmore turned towards his companion and said, 
“ I’ll play any game so long as I know what I play 
for. I’ll lay any stake in a game if I want to play.” 

“ That’s enough,” said Catmur, releasing the young 
man’s arm. “ When you came to me to-day, you 
said, ‘ Hear me out.’ How I say to you, ‘ Hear me 
out.’ Take in all my words, and in them, as in the 
words you said to me this morning, there may he 
meanings that everyone would not eatch, and there 
may not. Any way, make the most of what I say.” 
Catmur spoke with great impressiveness, nodding 
his head at the ground to give his words the weight 
of a soliloquy overheard. 

“Go on,” said Luxmore, drawing his hat down 
over his eyes, and thrusting his hands deep into his 
pockets. “ The girl was very beautiful, hut beauty 
was only skin-deep. John Greyhorne, her father, 


CATMUB^S CAVB. 


73 


had a million of money, and the beauty of money per- 
meates and pervades all things on earth, was what 
no other thing on earth ever could be — Enough.” 

Catmur drew his hand across his lipless mouth 
and spoke with the manner of a man who had finally 
made up his mind : 

“ I told you I thought there was something more 
than liking between this girl and Jeff Monday. 
Jeff Monday has no thought of getting money with 
her beyond her salary, and maybe a trifle from me 
when I die. He’s a terribly headstrong man, and I 
could not rely on him to share with me if he came 
into a great fortune through his wife. There’s a 
mistaken belief that I have Jeff cheap. Why, only 
for what I paid him I’d be a rich man. He knows 
about the statues, and I have to give him just what 
he asks.” 

“ A blackmailer ? ” said Luxmore in disgust. 

“Jeff Monday is the most heartless blackmailer 
in London, in England, in the world, and— you 
must swear to keep all I am saying between us 
two.” 

Luxmore swore most solemnly. 

“And I’d like to do him a bad turn if I could 
without his knowing I did it. Then you say, like 
the gentleman you are,”— Catmur drew his hand 
across his mouth to conceal a smile,— “that you’d 


74 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


give me ten thousand pounds if you came into a 
large fortune ” 

“ I’d gladly double it.” 

“You have the heart and the open hand of a 
prince.” Catmur coughed slightly. “Well, now, 
not to go too deeply into the matter, you would suit 
me much better in many ways than Jeff, and I’ll 
help you all I can. Maybe my wife left some ac- 
count of that accident behind her, and maybe she 
did not ” 

“ What ! ” shouted Luxmore, trembling with eager 
excitement. 

Catmur took no notice of the interruption, but 
went on. 

“ I can’t do much for you. All can be done by 
yourself.” 

“ Mr. Catmur, there is nothing on earth I would 
not do to succeed in this case.” Luxmore was be- 
side himself with joy. He had come to Catmur cer- 
tain of victory ; he had encountered defeat, despair ; 
and now once more burst upon his enraptured gaze 
a vision of triumph. 

“Wait,” said Catmur, shaking a warning finger at 
the young man. “ You have not heard me out yet.” 

“No matter what the conditions are I accept them. 
I’ll put down my life against the chance.” 

“Wait,” repeated Catmur, repeating his minatory 


CATMUKS CAVE. 


75 


gesture; “hear me out. Youmay have noticed that 
I did not call the girl downstairs when you were at 
my place just now ” 

“ My visit was a business one,” said Luxmore, a 
little disturbed by the recollection of his want of 
gallantry in not even asking to see Miss Starr. 

“ Quite a business one, plain enough,” said Catmur, 
drawing once more his hand across his mouth to 
hide a smhe. “ I did not wish to introduce you to 
her now. I told you the girl favours that common 
man Jeff Monday, because of his daring with the 
tiger. Women always are caught by showy pluck. 
Showy pluck — bah! Why, I taught her all she 
knows of magic and second-sight. I taught Jeff 
Monday all he knows of lion-taming. I don’t think 
anything has been said between the girl and Jeff 
yet. But she’s just as stiff-necked and determined 
as Jeff ; and if once she gives him her word she’ll 
marry him in spite of me and all the world.” 

“ But,” cried Luxmore, taking his hands out of his 
pockets and wiping his forehead, grown moist in 
fierce excitement, “ there is time yet to prevent her 
giving him a promise. If she has not given him her 
word there is no question of her keeping it.” 

“No; but go gently. You must remember she 
has been brought up, I may say, in my show. She 
has never been out in the world. She thinks the 


76 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


show is the world, and she thinks the lion-tamer of 
the show is the greatest man on earth, greater than 
any general or any king.” 

“Well?” cried Luxmore breathlessly. 

“ Well, my plan is that I should dismiss my lion- 
tamer.” 

“Yes?” 

“ And that you should take his place.” 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


77 


CHAPTER VIIL 

catmur’s proposal to luxmore. 

Luxmore drew up and started back in astonish- 
ment. For a few moments he was speechless. 
Catmur folded his arms across his chest and stood 
gravely, solemnly nodding at the ground, as though 
to imply that the people of earth lacked intelligence 
enough to understand him, but that to the great 
earth itself, to the foundation of all our being, he 
was quite plain ; with it he was in confidential rela- 
tions. 

“Mr. Catmur,” said Luxmore, when at last he 
found his voice, “ I did not come here to be trifled 
with. This is not a jesting matter. You are not 
now dealing with Mrs. Starr.” 

“ I know I am not dealing with my sister,” said 
Catmur regretfully. “ Great a fool as Ellen is, she 
would at once see the force of what I am saying. 
She would at once see that there is no way for any 
man to the girl’s heart but through deeds of daring. 
She would see that a rival to Jeff would be in the girl’s 


78 


CATMUTt'8 CAVE. 


eyes but another man who has dared the tiger. She 
would see I am not advocating anything difficult or 
unreasonable. I am not asking you to play the fat 
woman, or the umbrella-haired man, or the spotted 
boy ; your gifts do not lie in the way of any of these 
attractions. You haven’t a call that way. l^ature 
did not intend you for the boneless man, or the 
human shadow, or the electric lady. But as a lion- 
tamer — bah ! A person without any gifts at all can 
be a lion-tamer. I taught Millie all she knows of 
second-sight and magic. It was I gave Jelf Monday 
the power he shows over the tiger. Why, it’s all a 
trick, a trick of the trade. I would sell it to any 
man if I could get a price that would pay. If you 
and I are going to do business together I’ll teach it 
to you in the bargain.” 

Catmur uttered this long speech in the tone of a 
dreamy soliloquy. As it went on he raised his eyes 
and gazed before him, unfolded his arms, and with 
his left wrist held in his right hand behind his back 
walked on like a somnambulist. 

“ Mr. Catmur,” said Luxmore in a voice of protest 
and irritation, “you must know that what you 
suggest is absurd and impossible. You cannot per- 
suade me that for a moment you propose I should 
take the place of lion-tamer in your entertainment. 
Only the case is so serious I should think you are 


CATMURS CAVE. 


79 


laughing at me.” Luxmore was beginning to wonder 
if there was insanity in Catmur’s family. Was ever 
anything madder than Catmur’s jokes ? 

The showman stopped in his walk, looked into the 
face of the other, and putting his hand on Luxmore’s 
shoulder, said, with ponderous emphasis, “ I dare say 
a private secretary has a busy life, and cannot spare 
much of daylight for joking. A showman’s life is a 
very busy one too, and he cannot spare a minute of 
daylight or gaslight for joking to amuse himself. 
Cobblers are always badly shod, and showmen, when 
at liberty to amuse themselves, never amuse them- 
selves, but abandon themselves to poetry and mourn- 
ful thoughts. I am a showman, but I am not a 
corner man in a Christy minstrel troupe. I am not 
joking, young man. I can spare only another minute. 
I’ll tell you my plan in a few simple words.” 

“ If it involves the lion-taming business, you may 
spare yourself the trouble, Mr. Catmur,” said Lux- 
more peevishly. 

The showman, holding the secretary by the shoul- • 
der, swayed him gently to and fro as he said : 

“Listen to me. You are not to speak to a soul 
about what I am going to tell you. It is the deepest 
trade secret in the trade. All lion-taming is done 
with a drug, a perfume. You simply sprinkle that 
perfume over you, and if you can get near enough to 


80 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


the brute to insure liis smelling it before he springs, 
you may go up to the most savage beast in any 
show. I will not tell you the name of the drug now. 
I will tell you later. Even Jeff doesn’t know the 
name of the drug. Every performance I give him 
enough for the time. If he knew the secret as you 
shall know it, he might turn his back on me, and 
throw me over. I must leave you now. You had 
better not be seen with me by either Miss Starr or 
Jeff; they might suspect something, and Jeff is 
always armed. Come to me at the same hour to- 
morrow with word that you have made up your 
mind. I tell you it is your only chance. If you do 
not take my suggestion you will never succeed. 
Come to me to-morrow, at the same hour with your 
mind made up. Good-bye now ; I must go.” 

Bart Catmur re-entered the show by the back 
door, leaving the young man alone on Clayton Flat. 

Hugh Luxmore was not easily diverted from his 
purpose when his object was of no great importance. 
In the present case the matter was of gigantic im- 
portance, — nothing less than marrying the only child 
of a millionaire widower who now believed he was 
without a single relative in the world. 

Luxmore’s scheme had been to pay Catmur hand- 
somely for favouring his suit with the beautiful young 
clairvoyante, marry her while she was ignorant of 




CATMUB^S CAVE. 81 

her parentage, and then bring forward Catmur to 
confirm the story of the substitution of Ellen Tay- 
lor’s child for the child of Mr. Greyborne. He 
would of course tell Mr. Greyborne that he married 
Miss Starr in perfect innocence of her true history, 
and with no other design than to own the most 
beautiful and the best wife in England. Then mat- 
ters should take their course, and what course 
could they take but that of John Greyborne making 
Mildred, his lost Inez, his heiress ? 

The private secretary was in no way insensible to 
the extraordinary loveliness of Mildred Starr. Had 
he gone to the Caves merely out of curiosity he 
might have fallen in love with the exquisite clair- 
voyante. It would be rash to say had he fallen in 
love with her he would not marry her were he sure 
she and Catmur were really niece and uncle, and 
that he could hope for little or no fortune. But no 
sooner had he set eyes on her than the amazing like- 
ness between her and the portrait of the dead Mrs. 
Greyborne took exclusive possession of him. He could 
think of nothing but what a magnificent stroke it 
would be for him to marry one of the richest heir- 
esses in London — in England — in the whole world. 
The person of the girl was completely obscured by 
the stupendous pile of gold surrounding her. She 
was everything that was most desirable; so were 


82 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


thousands of girls, hut how many had a claim upon 
a million sterling? Were there a hundred ? Were 
there ten? Were there five? And even supposing 
there were ten, would he, Hugh Luxmore, ever have 
the remotest chance of exchanging a word with one 
of these heiresses, to say notliing of approaching one 
as a lover. 

His discovery about the tobacco gave him a double 
hold on Catmur. He had told himself a hundred 
times before that Wednesday forenoon, that with 
two such strings to his bow he could not fail with 
the showman. Yet here he was, after all, with Cat- 
mur gained over and yet no real progress made. 
Both his strings had proved useless, for he had been 
shooting at the wrong mark. 

According to Catmur’s own account, the girl would 
marry whom she pleased, — this swarthy lion-tamer 
in all likelihood. There must be a complete recon- 
sideration of his own plan. He owned he had re- 
ceived a check, but until the girl was married to 
this creature he would not admit he had been de- 
feated. He had no intention of being defeated. He 
meant to win yet. Why, it would be a monstrous 
absurdity to lose ; and for him^ Hugh Luxmore, to 
lose this prize, and to such a rival! The bare 
thought was grotesque. 

Grotesque as the thought of losing might be, it 


catmuh's cave. 


83 


was nothing like so absurd as the notion of his 
turning lion-tamer for the sake of this girl, for the 
sake of this marriage. He had, of course, no more 
thought of doing anything of the kind than he had 
of taking to street tumbling or the Punch-and-Judy 
business. But it made him uncomfortable to think 
that the woman upon whom he had set his mind, 
whom fate seemed to destine for him, should be 
swayed by mere displays of brutal courage in which 
the life of an admirer was uselessly exposed to the 
fury of a beast profitless to man. 

Of course, no one could know Mildred Starr better 
than her uncle, and now that he had declared him- 
self on Luxmore’s side Catmur had every inducement 
to help the man whose marriage would bring him in 
twenty thousand pounds. It was as clear as the sim 
at noon that Mildred was old Greyborne’s daughter. 
It was as clear as the sun at noon that Catmur knew 
this. It was almost certain that Catmur could prove 
Millie’s parentage if he chose. That hint about a 
history of the fatal day left by Catmur’s wife had, 
no doubt, substantial foundation in fact. How 
much it would prove could not be told, but hardly 
very much, or Catmur would have used it long ago, 
and extorted a vast reward from Greyborne. Ho 
doubt the reason why Catmur had kept silence so 
long was because the proofs held in his hands were 


84 CA TMUB^ S CA VE. 

weak. It was not a case that would have to be 
proved in a court of law. It would have to be proved 
only to one person, John Greyborne, who would be 
willing to be convinced, and whose conviction would 
be helped forward more by the extraordinary like- 
ness between the portrait of his dead wife and the 
living girl than by all the legal evidence in the world 
set forth in the most formal state. 

What had been Catmur’s intention if Hugh Lux- 
more had never turned up ? It was incredible that he 
would allow the girl to marry the lion- tamer. That 
talk about keeping the clairvoyante and the lion- 
tamer in the show was pure nonsense in the face of 
Mildred’s parentage. The girl perhaps had a leaning 
towards this dark man of forbidding face, but Cat- 
mur had only put forward that theory with the in- 
tention of extracting a larger bribe from Luxmore. 
He had offered twenty thousand pounds, and in no 
other way than by aiding his marriage with the girl 
could the secret bring in so much money to the show- 
man. Why, twenty thousand pomids would be a 
large fortune to a man in Catmur’s position. 

It might be that Catmur considered his proofs in- 
adequate. Catmur had had no means of, knowing 
the wonderful likeness between daughter and mother. 
Supposing the document signed by the showman’s 
wife was a full account of the substitution of Mrs. 


CATMUB'S CAVE, 


85 


Taylor’s child for Greyborne’s in the perambulator, 
and suppose the fact that the change of clothes was 
satisfactorily accounted for by the paper, the assump- 
tion would be that it was written at the suggestion, 
nay, even upon the compulsion, of Mrs. Catmur’s 
husband, and she being dead it would have little 
more weight than Catmur’s own word. Of course, 
the paper might have been witnessed, and the wit- 
nesses might be alive and forthcoming. But it would 
be regarded with suspicion. 

Catmur’s imbecile sister was absolutely useless as 
evidence. If ever there breathed an idiot, she was 
one. In all her mind gleamed not a single ray of 
intelligence. 

Was ever a case of such tremendous moment so 
environed by difficulties ? Here was the only child 
of one of the richest men in the country performing 
at a cheap show and in danger of being married to 
a lion-tamer who looked as if he had nigger blood 
in his veins ! 

If this idiot woman Starr or Taylor had only kept 
her reason, all would have been easy. If she could 
tell what happened on the fatal day, the case would 
be plain and simple. If this woman had only kept 
her reason ! If she could only get it back ! 

Could she get it back ? 


86 


CATMURS CAVE. 


Could Ellen Starr or Taylor get back her memory 
and reason after all these years ? 

What a distracting thought ! 

He had heard of a depressed bone being raised by 
an operation and reason and memory reviving in the 
brain, beginning at the moment they had been sus- 
pended by the depression. 

He must think of this. If the thmg could be done, 
it would revolutionise the situation. He must think 
of it and get the very best opinion money could 
procure. If the best surgical advice that money 
could procure said there was a chance of Mrs. 
Taylor or Starr recovering her memory under an 
operation, that operation must be tried. But 
how? 

How could he secure Catmur’s consent to the op- 
eration ? There was no use m thinking of securing 
the consent of the afflicted woman. She would 
“ consent ” to anything she was told to do. She was 
not to be taken into account. But Catmur? If he 
objected, what then ? 

Well, rather than fail altogether, the operation 
must be performed if it promised anything ; and as 
to Catmur’s consent, why, if it could not be got, it 
must be dispensed with. That was all. 

“ Of course I’ll keep the appointment with Catmur 
to-morrow at the same hour. Of course, under no 


CATMUE'S CAVE. 87 

conditions can I have anything to do with that 
tiger.” 

This was Hugh Luxmore’s final thought on his 
way hack to Mr. Greyborne’s house, Lancaster Gate. 

As he made it, Bart Catmur was making up his 
mind that if Hugh Luxmore did not fall into his 
views about the lion-taming business, the secretary 
would have a great deal to do with the tiger, so 
much that after the interview of to-morrow Hugh 
Luxmore would never again be troubled about select- 
ing an occupation in life. 


88 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


CHAPTER IX. 

IN THE CAVES. 

Bartholomew Catmxje was not a man of nice feel- 
ings. He did not trouble himself much about ques- 
tions of conscience. He was too politic to declare 
that he thought conscience a purely feminine virtue, 
without which a man was all the better. In the 
secret depths of his mind he believed that conscience 
in a man was useful to those men who could make 
a good thing of it. 

He was not irreligious at all, for he had no reli- 
gion, decried no religion. If people began talking 
of religion in his presence, he simply began thinking 
of something else. He never used profane language, 
for it had no horror for him, and he had noticed that 
many people objected to profanities. He was never 
angry with pious people. He simply set them down 
among those who did not as a rule patronise shows. 
He recognised the fact that many other people did 
not patronise shows. Whether pious people were 
excellent or not never troubled his mind. The 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


89 


world was wide enough for all. He himself had no 
bigoted belief in shows. He had been brought up 
a showman. Showmanship was his profession, and 
he followed it sincerely, but without blinding enthu- 
siasm. He was under no delusion that his business 
was a noble or exalted one. He did not care to 
inquire what a noble or exalted business was. He 
knew that a clever, careful showman could make 
money, and he looked on Catmur’s Caves merely 
as a trade speculation. If he could come by more 
money without the Caves, he would give them up. 
If, for instance, he could marry a wife who was 
heiress to an old man with a million, he would lock 
up the Greatest Show Under the Earth to-morrow. 

He was not a man who ever talked unnecessarily 
of his affairs. The present crisis would have imposed 
silence on a communicative man. It is likely that 
if Catmur had had the selection of his own house- 
hold, he would have chosen people possessing the 
characteristics of the three women now under 
his roof. For a man cherishing secrets which would 
develop malignant force if ever they got beyond 
his control, what could be better than the gentle, 
trusting, unnoticing sister, who had lost her wits ; 
than the young girl Millie, who looked up to this 
woman as a mother afflicted by Heaven and to him 
as an earthly Providence, who was so young and 


90 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


guileless in the world’s ways ; and then Susan, the 
stolid maid, who never thought at all, and regarded 
herself solely as an instrument of authority, and all 
authority for the present as vested in Bartholomew 
Catmur. 

He was not going to palter with the present sit- 
uation. The show and the household on Clayton 
Flat were his preserves, and if any man came prying 
or poaching there, that man came at his own risk, 
with his life in his hands. 

This yormg man Luxmore had come both prying 
and poaching. He had pried into the tobacco affair, 
and had coolly announced his intention of marrying 
Millie ! If this young man informed the authorities 
about the smuggling, Catmur would be ruined ; if 
this young man either married Millie or told John 
Greyborne that the daughter he mourned as dead 
was living, Catmur would never have a claim upon 
the great fortune he hoped to acquire through his 
marriage with John Greyborne’s daughter. 

V ery well. He had not sought the acquaintance of 
this young man ; if this young man came to-morrow, 
let him take his chance with the tiger. Catmur had 
told him there was no way of gaining the ‘girl’s 
notice except by conspicuous courage — in fact, ex- 
cept by occupying Jeff Monday’s place in the show. 
Most likely Luxmore would refuse the post of 


CATMUB''S CAVE. 


91 


lion-tamer to-morrow. Then instead of becoming 
Catmur’s lion-tamer the secretary should have a 
trial of tiger-taming. 

Of course Catmur meant what he said about giv- 
ing Luxmore the part filled by Jeff. But he had 
not meant to discharge Jeff. Luxmore should fill 
Jeff’s place only for a short time — a few minutes. 
He had intended going through the form of anoint- 
ing Luxmore with some drug, persuading the young 
man to enter the cage, and then leaving Luxmore 
to get on as best he could with the beast. 

Afterwards it would be easy to say that Luxmore 
was frantically in love with Millie, and conceived 
the mad idea that the only way to attract the girl’s 
regard was by emulating the feats of Jeff Monday 
with Ben. That Catmur laughed at the idea, but 
Luxmore would not be gainsaid, and stole, unknown 
to Catmur, into the show, and placing his faith in 
some useless drug, the odour of which was fabled to 
captivate the larger flesh-eating animals and render 
them docile, went into the tiger’s cage, with the 
melancholy result that he lost his life. 

Catmur could make his story all the more plaus- 
ible by getting Jeff Monday to swear that the theory 
of the drug was absurd, but hardly more absurd 
than that he entertained any feelings of a warm 
nature for Miss Starr, or that she had ever shown 


92 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


any favour to him beyond what she, out of her own 
goodness, would display to a faithful, humble 
servant of Bartholomew Catmur. 

The only question which had given Catmur any 
anxiety in this scheme was. Would it be possible to 
get through the legal part of it without disclosing 
the parentage of Millie ? It would not suit him at 
all that her identity should be made known at this 
stage of the plot. But when he proposed to Lux- 
more that he should take Jeff’s place he had made 
up his mind to risk that. 

Now it seemed more than likely Luxmore would 
refuse to be anointed and enter the tiger’s cage. 
The alternative scheme was, perhaps, after all, 
better. The story in Catmur’s evidence then 
would be the same, only that the moment Lux- 
more opened the cage to enter it the tiger sprang 
out, with the melancholy result that Luxmore lost 
his life. 

The scheme was complete, so far. Catmur had 
told Luxmore to come in by the back way. The 
secretary would enter the Caves unknown to a soul 
but Catmur. The showman, having arranged every- 
thing, would meet him there, and the rest was simple 
enough. The rest needed no doing. It would do 
itself. 

That day Catmur was in exceptionally good spirits 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


98 


during the afternoon performance. In the Cave of 
Sculpture a troupe of tumblers and equilibrists per- 
formed ; and between their feats Catmur expounded 
the works of art around him. 

He made jokes about the arms of Thothmes, and 
asked the young ladies how they would like to 
have an arm eight feet long and as thick as a poplar 
round their fifteen-inch waists. The origin of the 
saying, kicking up a row, came from the time when 
the Colossus of Rhodes, a cast of whose foot lay 
here, stepped off the land and walked up through 
the water to the town to complain of the inferior 
Macadam put down in his neighbourhood. Here 
were “Night and Morning” by Michael Angelo, and 
a good job, too, they were divided by twelve hours ; 
for, if they chanced to meet, there would be such a 
fight as never before was seen in civilised parts. 
Here was a huge Roman wine pitcher, which would 
hold enough to make the most experienced temper- 
ance band unable to sing coherently, “We won’t go 
home till morning.” This was the head of an 
Egyptian ram. Catmur was sorry to say he hadn’t 
a man-of-war ram here, but an Egyptian ram and a 
man-of-war ram were about the one size, and it was 
out of horns of such rams as this one that the best 
fog-horns of our men-of-war of to-day were turned. 
This was the cast of what a human eye would be like 


94 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


if we lived on a planet as big as the sun and were 
built in proportion to that great luminary. Although 
this eye was a cast, they would observe there was no 
cast in the eye. How would young ladies like to be 
ogled by eyes that size ? This was a whale’s jaw- 
bone. The roof of the whale’s mouth was gone. 
It would be no wonder if the roof was blown off in 
which there was so much jaw. This was the jaw of 
a male whale. Catmur left visitors with great im- 
aginations to fancy, if they could, what must be the 
size of the female whale’s jaw ? His own opinion 
was that it couldn’t even be imagined. 

The afternoon performance at the Caves was 
never so well attended as the one in the evening. 
For one statue of the Royal Family sold in the 
earlier entertainment half a dozen went off by night. 
To-day, however, there happened to be a larger at- 
tendance of people than usual, and Catmur found 
more buyers for the busts than any previous day in 
the new year. 

“ I’ll give you the statues for nothing, these mar- 
vellous works of art free, and throw in a monkey 
and a tiger just to make home homelike, if you get 
busts as good as these anywhere else for twice the 
money. Mind you, there is no Luther Lane Italian 
sugarstick-and-taffy art about them statues — they 
are genuine. You don’t get works of art like these 


CATMURS CAVE. 


95 


by turning the handle of a hand-organ, and you can’t 
make them out of ice-cream under an awning 
strapped on a frame of blue and yellow striped bar- 
ber’s poles. Royal Academicians come here all the 
way from Burlington House in Piccadilly to see these 
statues of the Royal Family. These Royal Academi- 
cians don’t come here, of course, when the doors are 
open to the general public, but they slip in during 
the off time, just to get a look at these figures. 
They would not dare to buy them and carry them 
home, for they knew if once statues of such merit 
were seen in their studios they would be cut out and 
never get another order except one for the House 
from the relieving officer. Ladies and gentlemen, I 
like to see pleasant faces about me, and a joke lightens 
the way. But I give you my word of honour that 
these are the cheapest plaster of Paris busts in 
Europe.” 

The course of the performance was, first, the 
tumbling or performing dogs or equilibrists or 
learned pigs, followed by the sale of casts in the 
Cave of Sculptures. 

This Cave was separated from the Cave of Busts 
by two sliding doors concealed from view on each 
side by heavy folding curtains. 

When the performance in the first Cave was over 
the sliding doors were rolled back and the audience 


CATMURS CAVK 


96 

iiiYit6(i to Giitor tliG CavG of Boasts, tho curtains 
being gathered away from the opening. 

When the performance in the Cave of Beasts was 
over, a second pair of sliding doors between it and 
the third were shot back, a second set of curtains 
drawn aside, and the audience uivited to enter the 
Cave of Magic and Monsters. 

There were no tumblers or learned pigs in the 
Cave of Beasts. The entertainment there consisted 
of the inspection of the beasts, a lecture of Catmur 
on the animals and winding up with the performance 
of Jeff Monday in the wild beasts’ dens, his entry 
to the tiger’s cage being always reserved for the 
last. 

In the Cave of Beasts Cadmur was not facetious. 
This was the educational branch of the establish- 
ment. This Cave appealed to the relatives and 
guardians of youth. A few anecdotes crept into the 
lecture, but the visitors were supposed to be princi- 
pally engaged in improving their minds by looking at 
the collection of animals, congratulating themselves 
on the thickness of the bars between the animals and 
themselves, and dwelling in breathless anticipation 
on the moment when the lion- tamer, Jeff Monday, 
began his marvellous performance with the beasts. 

At length, clad in black tights, with a tan- 
coloured leather strap at each wrist, and round his 


CATMUR'S CAVE, 


97 


head a black silk fillet, and in the centre of the fillet, 
upon his dusky forehead, a silver star, Jeff Monday 
bowed, swung himself quietly round on his heel 
without rising upright after his bow, and entered 
the leopards’ cage. 


7 


98 


CATMUB^S CAVE, 


CHAPTER X. 

JEFF MONDAY AND THE TIGER. 

Jeff Monday did not carry whip or wand. There 
was no room in his close-fitting tights for life pre- 
server or revolver. 

As he entered the cage the poor leopards came to- 
wards him with exuberant demonstrations of affec- 
tion ; but when they rubbed themselves against his 
legs, and fancied themselves too close to him to be 
any longer visible to him, they turned their muzzles 
away, as though their gorge rose at the bare thought 
of him for food, and yet while they held their heads 
away they gaped and gnashed their teeth and 
snapped, secretly desiring to be at his throat, to 
crush the limbs they affected to despise. 

They fawned upon him because they feared him, 
because, although never violent with them, he filled 
them with dread of what they knew not, as the 
roar of the lion fills the forest with fear. He was 
their superior, their master by some power they 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


99 


loathed and distrusted. They were the subject 
race, ever on the look-out for a flaw in his armour, 
that they might strike and be avenged and glut 
their ire. They were his slaves against their 
instinct, and by force of their nature they were 
traitors to him in heart. They caressed him with 
their heads in order to keep themselves from tear- 
ing him with their teeth and claws. They played 
with him so that they might be near him when a 
moment of weakness or inattention on his part 
should give them a chance of springing upon him 
and wounding him. 

The leopards jumped through hoops and sprang 
through his arms set akimbo. They leaped over 
his back and stood upon his shoulders, and gave 
him their paw like a dog, and rubbed their heads 
against him to show their love for him, and growled 
and snapi)ed at one another, to relieve their minds 
and prevent them jumping upon him and pulling 
him down and clawing his flesh from his bones. 

In the lion’s cage there was but a small African 
male, sombre and gloomy looking, wholly wanting 
in the friskiness and simulated affectionateness of 
the leopards. 

When Jeff Monday entered the lion’s den the 
brute was lying full length at the back. He rose 
sulkily, yawned, and shook himself, then came for- 


100 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


ward sullenly with dropped ears and hanging head. 
After the yawn he made no other noise, hut went 
through his performance inattentively, never seem- 
ing to know or to care what was going on or what 
he was expected to do, and trying all the time to 
avert his eyes from the man and seem to be uncon- 
scious of the trainer’s presence. 

“ It’s the lion will kill Jeff in the end,” said a 
man in the audience, “ not the tiger. It’s the brute 
that never looks on you that turns on you. I ought 
to know. I had three years at it, and a lion like 
that went for me at last. That lion got my arm, he 
did.” The speaker carried an empty sleeve across 
the breast of his coat. The man spoke to no one in 
particular. By his side was standing a man in a 
blue apron. 

The performance with the lion consisted in mak- 
ing him jump through bigger hoops than those used 
with the leopards. He leaped over wooden bars 
placed by Jeff Monday at an angle between the side 
of the cage and the floor. On the smaller bills this 
was called, “Wonderful and exciting steeplechase 
with lions.” After the steeplechase Jeff Monday 
clapped his hands with a loud noise and the lion fell 
down as if shot. The trainer raised the lion’s head 
from the ground, but the lion showed no signs of life. 
On the smaller bills this was inscribed as the lion 


GATMURS CAVE. 


101 


shot — “ Marvellous simulation of death of the lion.” 
After this Jeff hacked out of the cage and shut the 
door, and the lion curled up sulkily and with a 
snort went to sleep. 

“ Some day,” said the man with the empty sleeve 
to the man in the blue apron, “that brute, instead of 
falling when he claps his hands, will down the tamer, 
and what would the tamer’s life be worth if that 
brute ever got him down ? It’s all right with these 
lions and tigers so long as you keep on your feet. 
You see, when you’re near them you seem very big 
to them, for they think you have a long body and 
another pair of legs behind, like themselves, and 
that’s why you must always face them ; they judge 
you by your front, and think you must be twice as 
big as themselves. But once they have you down 
they know what a fraud you are. No man a lion 
or a tiger once saw down under him had ever any 
power over him again.” 

“You’ve never been here before, neighbour?” 
said the man in the blue apron. 

“No, never. But I ought to know something 
about the brutes — one of them gave me an empty 
sleeve.” 

“ Ah,” said the other, “ that was bad. I’m sorry 
for you. But you never saw Jeff with the tiger? ” 

“ No, never.” 


102 


CATMUR 8 CAVE. 


“ Then, wait. Watch now. In he goes.” 

There was a low, deep sound among the crowd, as 
though all gathered breath at once. 

The black figure of Jeff Monday bowed quickly to 
the audience. Before he slipped into the cage of 
Ben the tiger, who was said to have killed a keeper 
abroad, the audience noticed that Jeff Monday’s right 
arm was bare from the wrist to the shoulder. 

While the performance with the leopards and the 
lion was going on, the tiger had lain coiled up at the 
back of his cage, as far as he could get away from 
the bars. The moment he heard the door of his 
cage open he started up, turned round, and with a 
low, deep growl shook himself, rose, and with two 
imdulating bounds, sprang upon the keeper. 

The audience drew a hard, audible breath, like a 
gasp. 

The huge brute raised himself on his hind-paws, 
and seized a shoulder of the man in each thick, soft, 
claw-armed forepaw. 

A throb, as though one audible heart-beat of all 
the spectators, stirred the air. No one moved. No 
one spoke. No sense was exercised but the sense of 
seeing. 

The huge striped beast swayed to and fro, the 
man swaying to and fro with him. The man tot- 
tered on his feet. 


CATMUWS CAVE. 103 

“ If he falls,” whispered the one-armed man, “ he 
is a dead man.” 

“ W ait,” whispered the man in the blue apron. 

Suddenly the tiger threw up his enormous, hideous 
head and curved his back inward. 

“ Ah ! ” whispered the man with the empty sleeve. 
“ He will pull him down. He is a dead man.” 

“ Wait.” 

Like a flash the tiger straightened his back and 
flung the lion-tamer back, still retaining his hold of 
the shoulders. 

Jeff Monday struggled, and fell with the tiger on 
top. 

A sound like a universal sob burst from the 
people. 

The keeper was lying on his back close to the 
front bars of the cage, the tiger lying partly across 
the body. 

The tiger took his left paw from the man’s shoul- 
der and placed it on the man’s breast. Then with 
a growl he seized Jeff Monday’s naked right arm and 
shook it and growled and mumbled and snarled 
over it. 

A groan burst from the crowd. 

As swiftly as he had seized the arm he dropped 
it ; took his paw from the other shoulder, and thrust- 
ing the paw on the man’s breast further and so that 


104 


CATMUE'S CAVE. 


the claws extended beyond the man’s body and the 
fore-arm of the tiger rested gently on the man’s 
chest, threw up his head, and opening his horrible 
mouth uttered a terrifying roar, and glared around 
fiercely at the people, lashing his tail with fury. 

The air and attitude of the beast now was that of 
a tigress at bay crouching to defend her young. 

“ Well done, Ben ! Well done, Jeff ! ” the people 
cheered, as the keeper rose unharmed and bowed in 
acknowledgment of the shouts of applause. 

“ I wouldn’t do that for all the money in the Bank 
of England,” said the one-armed man. “ Some day 
that tiger will kill that man.” 

“ That tiger will never harm that man,” said the 
man with the apron. “ I supply the meal for the 
beast. I have seen this performance a dozen times. 
That tiger loves that man better than ever a she- 
tiger loved her cubs. Look now.” 

Jeff Monday was sitting in the middle of the floor 
of the cage and with his face to the audience. The 
great, striped, undulating, lithe beast was walking 
round and romid him, making a harsh, grating, 
purring sound, now and then thrusting his thick, 
shapeless, ferocious head against the man, now and 
then rubbing his lean, lank shoulder against the 
shoulder of the sitting keeper. Now and then he 
laid his deep wrinkled, creased head against the head 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


105 


of the man, snoring and purring harshly the while. 
All at once the tiger stopped in his restless walk, 
and throwing up his head, glanced at the audience 
through the bars, fixing his terrible fiery eyes on 
the people for the first time. 

Out of that prodigious head, all battered and 
marred, blazed two dark eyes. ^ Across one, a red- 
hot iron had seared a gaping furrow. On the crown 
of the slanting head a bald, blackened patch told 
where a charge of shot, fired a foot off, and glancing 
upward, had torn away hair and skin, the powder 
blackening for ever the fiesh now lying seared upon 
the bone. An upward lance thrust in the corner of 
the night owl gave the face at that side a horrifying 
and degrading leer. 

The brute stood still, glaring at the people fero- 
ciously for a moment, then began walkmg up and 
down, lashing his tail and growling and gnashing 
his cruel yellow teeth. 

Meanwhile, Jeff Monday never moved. He sat 
motionless on the middle of the fioor, his club and 
naked arms folded across his breast, black and 
tawny twisted bars, his dusky, expressionless face 
set towards the spectators, the f Jr-away look of the 
great forest beasts in his eyes. 

“ When that tiger goes back to him he’ll kill Jeff 
Monday,” whispered the man with the empty sleeve. 


106 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


“ I know their ways. The tiger is lashing himself 
into a fury for the attack.” 

“ He’d kill all of us, no doubt, if he could get at 
us, but he’d die for Jeff,” said the knacker. 

The tiger stood in the middle of the bars and 
thrusting out his under jaw and opening his mouth, 
displaying his huge yellow fangs, uttered a roar that 
made the stoutest start back and the timid quail. 

Then with a scornful toss of his head and con- 
temptuous lash of his tail, for the creatures who, 
after all this defiance, would not come on, he dropped 
his head all at once, turned round, facing the keeper, 
flung himself heavily on the floor, and, wriggling 
along on his great, sinewy side, swept hack to where 
Jeff Monday sat on the hoards, and with a yawn 
dropped his gigantic head on the man’s lap. 

“Friend,” said the one-armed man, “you are 
right. That tiger will never harm a hair of Jeff 
Monday’s head. That tiger would die for that man, 
as you say. What’s the secret ?” 

“ I never saw the tiger show his love for Jeff so 
strong before,” said the other, not heeding the 
question. 

“ What’s the secret ? There must he some secret.” 

“ Look ! ” said the man with the apron. “ The 
tiger’s love has got the better of Jeff himself to-day. 
The tears are falling out of Jeff’s eyes ! ” 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 107 

“Why he loves the tiger better than a sweet- 
heart ! ” 

“ Sweetheart ! ” cries the man in the blue apron 
scornfully, “ Jeff has no sweetheart — wants no sweet- 
heart. What sweetheart would give him such love 
as that tiger gives him ? What woman would love 
only him as that tiger loves only him ? And he 
loves only the tiger. What more love could man 
want than that ? Look ! ” 

Jeff Monday had raised the tiger’s head in his 
hands and drawn it against his breast, and was re- 
garding the hideous, battered, odious head with a 
look of such yearning and meffable love that those 
who were near and saw it felt their eyes moisten 
and their throats swell. 

“ I tell you,” said the man in the apron, “ it’s one 
thing to be loved by a woman that’s of your own 
kind, and another to be loved like that by a beast 
that’s against you by nature itself. Look at Jeff’s 
face now. Doesn’t he look more like an angel than a 
man ? and then that tiger is more like an angel to 
Jeff than any man or woman. They may say this 
is a dangerous performance. It does me more good 
than anything else I know.” 

“ It is wonderful while it lasts, but how long will 
it last ? ” 


108 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


“You don’t think now that the tiger will one day- 
turn on Jeff?” asked the man scornfully. 

“ No. But there must be an end of it some way.” 
“You don’t think,” said the knacker, with wither- 
ing irony, “ that Jeff will turn on the tiger ? ” 

The man shook his head. “ He would kill himself 
before he would hurt that beast.” 

Within twenty-four hours the end predicted came ; 
Jeff Monday had shot the tiger. 


CATMUIf'S CAVE. 


109 


CHAPTER XI. 

AT LANCASTER GATE. 

Hugh Luxmoke lived in Mr. Greyborne’s house at 
Lancaster Gate. His duties were light and he could 
dispose of most of his day as he chose. Breakfast 
was at half-past eight, and from nine to ten the 
secretary was closeted with Mr. Greyhorne over the 
ordinary correspondence of the mornmg, and general 
talk about the “Life.” From that out Luxmore 
was free to allot his hours, the habit being for him 
to give three or four to the autobiography. From 
breakfast till dimier the two men did not meet. 
Mr. Greyborne usually went out, and the secretary 
went, till luncheon, to the room where the work 
was going on. 

The old man was destitute of literary speech. 
He knew no more how to go about making a book 
than of composing an oratorio. His only view in 
connection with the book, was that it should be a 
plain, straightforward history of his career. He had 
undertaken it in obedience to the command of 


110 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


D’Alligham, so that he might not, upon his retire- 
ment, find himself wholly adrift from occupation 
and with no interest in future wants. 

“ It will be wholesome for you to have the pro- 
duction of the hook to think of. It is deadlier for a 
man who has been busy all his life to lie idle than 
for even a young man. To-day is a fatal position 
for a man who has no interest in to-morrow. To- 
day ought to be considered the waiting-room of 
time, as time ought to be considered the waiting- 
room of eternity.” 

The contractor felt no hurry about his book. He 
had no ambition to pose as an author. He had no 
intention of taking credit for labour not his own. 
He would say on the title page that the volume was 
edited by Hugh Luxmore from documents and facts 
supplied by him. He never for a moment imagined 
the book would interest the public, and he knew it 
would contain facts and hints useful to men engaged 
in big contracts. 

Mr. Greyborne spent a good deal of his time at his 
club reading the papers, particularly those connected 
with his own occupation. Up to the time of his mar- 
riage he had been altogether absorbed in his business. 
After the loss of his wife and child he gave himself 
up more than ever to specifications and estimates, 
and plans and calculations. He had always kept to 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


Ill 


the front of things in his own line, but for years he 
had been falling behind the world in general affairs, 
and now he was a self-absorbed, dreamy old man, 
requiring a good deal of working before he could be, 
made to show interest in matters outside engineering 
and building. As the years went on he had gradu- 
ally drawn back more and more into himself, until 
now few who met him got a glimpse of the real man 
at all. In ordinary affairs he was as simple as a child. 
In money matters, he was more than liberal, lavish. 

Although he and D’Alligham did not meet often’ 
they were sincere friends. In fact D’Alligham 
was the only intimate friend he had, the one man 
who knew him and his history thoroughly, and after 
the doctor, to whom he spoke with that absolute 
absence of reserve so startling and overwhelming in 
men who make few confidants, and to be found in 
them alone, the one person to whom he gave any 
confidence at all was his private secretary, Hugh 
Luxmore. 

One of the uses of the projected autobiography 
was that it enabled Mr. Luxmore to look forward to 
dinner with pleasure. It was then the two men 
spoke about the book. 

During dinner that Wednesday evening Hugh 
Luxmore did not feel at his ease. According to his 
conscience he was not engaged in any scheme of 


112 


CATMUn'S CAVE. 


which he ought to be ashamed. But it was one 
thing to arrange beforehand all the moves of his 
game, and another thing to sit in this man’s dining- 
room, receiving his hospitality and his confidence 
whilst — well, moving on lines not visible to his 
employer and his host. 

Mr. Greyborne was a short, stout, fresh-coloured 
man, with close-cropped iron-grey hair and clean- 
shaven face. Every day after dinner he drank two 
glasses of port and smoked a couple of cigars. 
Hugh Luxmore drank a glass of claret and smoked 
cigarettes. 

When the two were left alone that Wednesday 
evening there was some desultory talk about cur- 
rent events, and then some general talk about the 
book. 

Luxmore found it necessary to clear his throat 
several times before he could bring himself to ap- 
proach the matter foremost in his mind. At last 
he plunged on. 

“ I have now, sir,” he said, “ completed the section 
devoted to the melancholy mcidents seventeen years 
ago. And before I touch on the resolution, under 
medical advice, of continuing in business, there seems 
an opportunity for you to make any remark you 
may think fit in connection with the dreadful oc- 
currence. I, of course, bear in mind what you have 


CA TMUB' S CAVE. 113 

SO often told me, that you do not wish to make this 
hook a vehicle for sentiment.” 

Luxmore paused. 

The old man took his cigar out of his mouth and 
looked steadily into the fire. “ Quite right, Mr. Lux- 
more,” he said gravely. “ I do not desire to make 
the hook a vehicle for sentiment.” 

“ Putting sentiment aside,” said the young man, 
knocking the ashes carefully off the end of his cig- 
arette, “ a line or two of reflection might not come 
amiss at the end of the section.” 

“ Reflection? ” said the contractor with more inter- 
est ; “ reflection of what kind? ” 

Luxmore cleared his throat and touched his lips 
with his glass. “ Well, of course, sir, all the readers 
of the book will know how successful you have been 

in life — that you retired with a vast fortune ” 

“It is my intention to give all figure-money, 
figures and all. I don’t mean down to shillings and 
pence, you know; but in round numbers, round 
numbers. We shall say later in the book that I 
took with me out of business something more than 
a million.” He sipped his port and replaced the 
cigar in his mouth. He was a man of no pretences, 
and he did not desire to conceal his self-complais- 
ancy as he uttered the rolling, resounding word 
that expressed the sum of his fortune. 


114 


CATMURS CAVE. 


“ What I was thinking of when I spoke of a re- 
flection was that you might with great propriety 
and force say something about the fact of there being 
many thousands, hundreds of thousands of children 
horn into poverty, who live and grow up in poverty, 
and die in poverty, and here was a child — an heiress 
— to whom all you possessed would naturally go, 
snatched out of life by a mere accident.” Luxmore 
rested his elbow on the table, shaded his face with 
his hand and watched the old man keenly through 
his Angers. 

Mr. Greyhorne looked into the Are, smoking slowly. 
“ I don’t like the notion much,” he said at length, in 
a thoughtful voice. “ If we said that it would he the 
flrst thing of the kind in the book, wouldn’t it ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I’d rather keep to facts and flgures. I am at 
home in facts and figures. Facts and figures seem 
to me things you can state without feeling about 
them, as one would sell bolts and bricks. Facts 
and figures are your own to do with as you please. 
But when you go into such reflections, you seem to 
take others into partnership.” 

“ If I may speak out,” said Luxmore, shifting un- 
easily on his chair and looking into the fire also, 
“ I think the point of the book at which we have 
now arrived would be a good place for you to indi- 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


115 


cate, if you mean to indicate at all, the direction in 
which you would like to see your wealth flow, since 
that accident deprived you of an heiress.” 

“ Oh, I understand now,” said Mr. Greyhorne, look- 
ing from the Are to the young man. “ You think I 
ought now to say how I intend leaving the money.” 

“ No, no,” said Luxmore, meeting the contractor’s 
glance with his own, “I do not presume to re- 
commend anything of the kind.” He put his hand 
in his pocket and took out a sheet of paper, saying 
with a laugh, “ I have ventured to put down the 
outline of what I thought might come in just here. 
But I am afraid it is more than a reflection. I am 
afraid it is almost sentiment.” 

“ Read,” said Mr. Greyhorne, finishing his port, 
lighting a fresh cigar and fixing his eyes sternly on 
the fire. 

“You will not be offended if I seem to have pre- 
sumed rather much,” said Luxmore with a smile. 
“ I was only trying to devise an effective ending to 
the section, and when I put down what I have here 
I never thought of submitting it to you. I just 
wrote it for my own satisfaction.” 

“ Offended ! How can I be offended ? I am always 
glad to listen to a suggestion.” 

“ ‘ I found myself now,’ ” read the secretary from 
the paper before him, “ ‘ at the age of fifty, in full 


116 


CATMUirS CAVE. 


health and vigour, possessing half a million of 
money, deprived of wife and child, and without a 
single relative to enjoy my success while I lived or 
inherit my fortune when I died. Now that my life 
has been prolonged many years and my fortmie 
doubled, what would I not give to live one year in 
the society of my lost one ! ’ ” 

The voice of the secretary ceased. Silence filled 
the room. The eyes of the old man were fixed 
upon the fire. The eyes of the young man were 
fixed on him. 

Moment after moment went by without change. 
From abroad came the roll of carriage wheels. In 
the intense silence this dull rumble was exaggerated. 
In the secretary’s ears it seemed as loud as the 
incessant rumble of wheels at Clayton Junction. 
A thought Hashed into Luxmore’s mind. He raised 
his eyes to the picture hanging over the fire-place, 
the picture of a beautiful, dark young woman look- 
ing down with large, mysterious eyes from the 
wall. 

“ The sibyl in the Cave of Magic,” he whispered 
to himself. “If this old man could only see the 
sibyl at this moment in the Cave of Magic, what 
would happen ? ” 

Luxmore dropped his eyes to the figure of the old 
man still staring into the fire. The attitude of the 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


117 


dreamer was slightly changed. The old man’s face 
was shaded from the young man by one of the 
hands. 

“ What would this man give now,” thought Lux- 
more, “ for one glance into that Cave of Magic and 
the outline I could give of Mildred Starr’s history ? ” 

At length Greyhorne raised his eyes and looked 
at the picture over the chimney-piece. 

“ That passage must he changed,” he said at last in 
a hushed, husky voice. “ It must,” he said. “I would 
give all I possess in the world and die happy if I 
could only live one day with either of my lost ones, 
with the wife I loved, Luxmore, in my lonely middle 
age, or with the daughter as she would he now, a 
companion and a hope. I would give all and die 
happy, Luxmore, for one day. I would give all my 
fortune for one day, Luxmore.” 

The old man had never called him “ Luxmore ” 
before. He had never before in the secretary’s pres- 
ence displayed emotion. 

Shall I alter the passage as you suggest, 
sir ? ” 

“ The passage ! The passage ! ” said the old man 
with a start. “ Oh, of course ! I forgot you were 
speaking of the book. No, no. No passage of the 
kind must appear in the book.” 

The secretary thought, ‘‘ I don’t care about the 


118 CATMU^S CAVE. 

book. I have now found out all I want to know. 
The old man would give his life merely to see his 
child, whether he found her the wife of a beggar 
or a convict.” 

“You have set me thinking, Luxmore,” Grey- 
borne went on. “You have now been helping me 
for a year or more with this book, and you must 
know more of my affairs than anybody else, except 
D’Alhgham. I have long ago decided what I shall 
do with the bulk of my fortmie ; but you may make 
your mind easy about your own future. I shall 
take care of that. I am a little upset to-night. 
Your words set me thinking of long ago, which 
does not after all seem so long ago. You know my 
wife used to sing, and I was learnmg her language. 
It is a fine, stately language, and my heart always 
felt stately towards her, Luxmore, clumsy as I may 
seem to you. She used to suig to me in the even- 
uigs — a beautiful, wonderful voice.” 

“ A rich contralto ? ” asked Luxmore eagerly. 

“ Yes ; but how did you guess ? I never spoke of 
it to you before.” 

“No,” said Luxmore, confused a little. “But I 
always connect Mrs. Greyborne’s style of romantic 
beauty with a deep voice.” He was thinking of the 
“ beautiful, wonderful ” contralto voice he had heard 
in the Cave of Magic from the lips of Mildred Starr, 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 119 

whose portrait that one over the mantel-piece 
might he. 

“ I’d give all I have,” said the old man, “ for one 
hour, one look. Good-night.” He rose and left 
the room with shuffling feet and bowed head. 

Thought Luxmore, “ He would leave all he has to 
that daughter if she was the wife of a beggar or a 
convict. But how would it be if she was the wife 
of a — traitor?” 


120 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


CHAPTER XH. 

THE TIGER AT LARGE. 

Luxmore did not sleep well that night. As a rule 
he felt perfectly satisfied with himself. He was 
not now discontented with himself, hut he was not 
perfectly contented. He resisted a desire to justify 
himself, for self-justification was, he knew, the sign 
of a weak cause. 

He asked Hugh Luxmore, as though the question 
had nothing to do with himself, if it would not he 
almost better to lay the whole case before Mr. Grey- 
borne and trust to his chance of the old man re- 
warding him with his daughter’s hand? As an 
impartial judge Hugh Luxmore told himself that 
would be a desperate risk to run. 

Mr. Greyborne’s statement that his secretary 
would be provided for by will was not one he looked 
for or desired. He knew how secretaries were 
provided for in wills. He should find himself with 
a thousand pounds, a silver inkstand and a hundred 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


121 


and fifty or perhaps two hundred a year. That 
might satisfy a man of sixty, who wished to take 
his ease, but for an ambitious yomig man it would 
be less than useless ; indeed, it would be almost an 
affront. Yes, the best way to look upon that prom- 
ise of consideration as a servant deserving a pension 
would be to consider it as an insult. Why should 
Mr. Greyborne assume he wanted alms ? 

But the secretary could not get up much indigna- 
tion over the promised legacy. He was not sensi- 
tive by nature, and he had much more important 
things to think of than Mr. Greyborne’s intentions 
towards him while they stood to one another in 
their present relations. 

Ho, the best thing for Hugh Luxmore to do was 
to make sure. He had no doubt whatever that 
with Catmur’s help he could win. He had not the 
shadow of a doubt that Mildred Starr of Catmur’s 
show was really Inez Greyborne, and that Catmur 
and the portraits and the documents left by Cat- 
mur’s dead wife would fully establish the girl’s 
identity in the eyes of Mr. Greyborne. The only 
difficulty of any moment he saw in the matter was 
with the girl herself. He could not believe she 
cared for that dark-skinned, middle-aged lion-tamer. 
And yet if all he had heard of the isolation in which 
Catmur had kept her was true, this grotesque man 


122 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


with the absurd name was the only man the girl had 
a chance of meeting. Jeff Monday was the only 
man who ever went uiside the door of Catmur’s 
house, and it was impossible to say how the imagina- 
tion of a lonely young girl might have been affected 
by contact with this swarthy lion-tamer whom the 
audience regarded as a most daring hero. 

There was, of course, no use in Catmur wasting 
any more time over that absurd proposal that he 
should take Jeff Monday’s place in the show. What 
had been Catmur’s object in making such an absurd 
suggestion he could not fathom. He had offered 
Catmur twenty thousand pounds for his co-opera- 
tion. One would fancy that sum enough to induce 
the showman to send Jeff Monday about his busi- 
ness. Catmur could not think of giving the daugh- 
ter of the rich John Greyborne to a saltimbanco, a 
clown, a creature who, according to Catmur himself, 
owed his very power over the beast to a trick, a 
drug. The idea was monstrous — outrageous ! not 
to be listened to with patience, and Hugh Luxmore 
would not listen to any more of it. This was no 
time for trifling. This was no matter for trifling 
with. To-morrow Catmur should come straight up 
to strict business. 

When the morrow came it was not propitious. 
The clouds overhead hung even lower than yester- 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


123 


day. The air was heavier and more misty. Before 
ten o’clock a damp, streaky fog drifted over London 
from its brooding place in the Essex marshes. 

The fog was not dense enough to stop the traffic 
or keep indoors people who wanted to he abroad. 
Across a wide street it blurred the line of doors 
and windows, hut left the larger surfaces visible. 
It was cold and wet and wretched without rain — a 
day to depress the spirits of those who had time 
to think of their spirits — not had enough to stop the 
business of people moderately anxious about their 
affairs. 

Hugh Luxmore was more than moderately anx- 
ious about his affairs. He had been so long brooding 
over the scheme now coming to a head, that he was 
in a state of great perturbation when he found him- 
self about to move in it. Mr. Greyborne made no 
reference to their conversation of the night before. 
The secretary was glad of this. He had gathered 
from the scene of last night that no serious obstruc- 
tion to comfortable relations between Millie’s father 
and Millie’s husband would be raised by the million- 
aire. Until the scheme had advanced beyond the 
present step, Luxmore would prefer saying no 
more about the past to Greyborne. 

At a quarter past eleven Luxmore was to be with 
Catmur. 


124 CATMUB'S CAVE. 

He drove in a hansom from Lancaster Gate to 
Victoria Station, where he took train to Clayton 
Junction. He did not drive the whole way from Lan- 
caster Gate to Railway Avenue, although that would 
he the quickest way, for he did not wish the cabman 
to know whither he was going. He had never once 
mentioned the Caves to Mr. Greyhorne, and it would 
he much safer not to leave behind him a clue to his 
destination, for, although nothing in the world could 
be more unlikely than that Mr. Greyhorne should 
seek to follow him, still one can never be too cautious 
when caution at all is desirable. 

He was not conscious of being in either good or 
bad spirits. His nature was one of those almost free 
from fluctuations of spirits, for his mind was always 
fixed on the necessity for success, and a man who is 
always thinking of success must be always alive and 
alert to use his faculties and opportunities to the 
best advantage. No man whose state of mind is 
always one of preparedness can have good or bad 
spirits : he is jubilant or discomfited or absorbed, 
but rarely in good or bad spirits. 

Luxmore was absorbed and confident. Catmur 
could not possibly get from anyone else a better 
offer than he had made, and as far as another ten 
thousand pounds went, why, Catmur could have it 
if he wanted it. 


CATMUIVS CAVE. 125 

What was twenty thousand pounds out of a mil- 
lion ? Nothing. 

Fancy a million ! A million all his I Why, he 
should go into Parliament. The doors of Parlia- 
ment had always been open to any man with a quar- 
ter of a million who chose to knock long enough and 
persistently enough. If a man who owned a million 
once got into Parliament and minded his opportu- 
nity, nothing could keep him out of a peerage ! 

The best of it was, nothing whatever in the case 
formed a serious drawback. The money had been 
fairly earned in a highly respectable business. Mr. 
Greyborne’s name had never been touched in the 
faintest way by the breath of commercial scandal, 
and from what he had heard in Spain Mrs. Grey- 
borne’s family added dignity to the money of rich 
John Greyborne. 

Of course, when Millie was his wife and the ac- 
knowledged l\piress or in possession of the wealth 
of John Greyborne, it would not be pleasant to 
repeat that she had been the clairvoyante of Cat- 
mur’s show. But that would lose the sting soon ; 
and had not some of the richest and proudest peers 
of Europe married actresses? Pooh! there was 
nothing at all in that. 

Imagine him, Hugh Luxmore, the pauper orphan, 
the nephew of the bankrupt John Luxmore, inheritor 


126 CATMUIVS CAVE. 

of a million! Member of Parliament! Peer ! Was 
ever such a career as his should be ? And this was 
not the dreaming of a romantic boy, but the reason- 
able — fancy that ! — the reasonable expectations of a 
level-headed man of eight-and- twenty ! 

If this Catmur only fell into his views, nothing 
that was not quite certain was more likely than that 
all the success desired would befall him. John Grey- 
borne had the money, no doubt, but what use was 
it to him? Wealth had come to John Greyborne 
too late in life to make any use of it. The contrac- 
tor was not a clever man outside contracts. His 
outlook was too limited. He knew the saying that 
fools made money for their sons to spend it. But 
if in the present case the contractor made money he 
could not convert that money into success, into dis- 
tinction, into glory. Another saying was, that it took 
three generations to make a gentleman. This might 
be true in an ordinary case ; but in thi^case, here was 
the money coming from the first hand that made it 
into the hand of one who could get a peerage with it. 

A good education had put the tools into his hands 
for working his way up socially. All he needed was 
the material to work with, and John Greyborne’ s 
money was the very material needed. 

Look at the steps again : son-in-law of a million- 
aire, member of parliament, himself the millionaire, 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


127 


baronet, peer. Why, the career would he more 
wonderful than that of the young Ben Disraeli. It 
was certain Hugh Luxmore would never be prime 
minister of England. He knew himself he had not 
the abilities to climb to such a giddy height. He 
had no ambition to lead men. All he desired was to 
be rich and gloriously conspicuous, and he could not 
fail to be both if he could only marry this girl. 

And, of course, the girl herself was the most 
beautiful being he had ever seen, and he would treat 
her as the first lady in the land and love her as well 
as any other man, better, he had no doubt, than 
many a man who would profess to love her for her 
beauty alone. Disraeli himself said that all the men 
he knew who married for love either beat their 
wives or were living separated from them. When 
men allowed themselves to choose their wives be- 
cause of pretty faces or arts and accomplishments, 
they were certain to use their hands when the charm 
lost the edge of novelty. But if a man took a wife 
in sober and solid earnest and because of considera- 
tions which admitted of no abatement with time, 
then he was doing the wisest thing towards which 
human wisdom could help him in the choice of a 
helpmate. 

“ This is the back entrance,” said Hugh Luxmore 
to himself, interrupting the current of his thoughts. 


128 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


“ I hardly knew it in the fog. Why, I cannot see 
across the Flat. I cannot see even Catmur’s house 
that’s half-way across the waste ground. The fog 
is a good omen, or rather handsel, of success, for no 
one could follow me through that fog. Even if any 
one had come by train from Victoria, no one could 
have kept me in view across this deserted stretch. 
Here is Catmur waiting for me. Now to he brief 
and firm with him.” 

“Well,” said Catmur, hoarsely, without looking 
Luxmore in the face, “ have you made up your mind 
about taking Jeff’s place?” 

“ Oh, fully,” answered Luxmore, with a laugh. 

The laugh seemed to sting Catmur. “ All right,” 
said he, “ you are quite sure ? ” He led the way mto 
the deserted Cave of Monsters. 

“ Perfectly certain. The idea is grotesquely pre- 
posterous.” 

“All right,” said Catmur again, more huskily 
still. 

They had now reached the curtains over the slid- 
ing door. 

“We must only,” said Catmur, “manage the best 
way we can. I — I am very busy. Will you step 
inside for a few minutes ? I’ll be with you soon. I 
want to see about something before we talk this 
out.” 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


129 


Luxmore passed between the sliding doors, which 
were swiftly drawn together behind him with a loud 
clang. 

He turned around, facing the door, with a start, 
then faced the open door of the menagerie. 

On the centre of the floor, close to the table, lay 
the tiger at large. 

The ferocious brute stared at the intruder with 
insolent indifference for a moment, then rose and 
growled, then crouched down as though afraid to 
make the least noise. 

He was crouching for the spring. 

Luxmore stood limp and paralysed with horror, 
staring at the brute. 

The muzzle of the brute rested on his forepaws. 
His eyes, no longer with that far-away look in them, 
pierced, transfixed the victim. 

Suddenly a terrific shriek seemed to pass through 
the brute from muzzle to tail, and, as though shot 
from some prodigious catapult, he flashed through 
the air with a terrific roar. 

The yell of a man in his death-agony pierced the 
air. 


9 


130 


CATMUKS CAVE, 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE beasts’ friend. 

The impassiveness of Jeff Monday’s swarthy face 
had in it the sweetness of the blind. He held his 
head high, not because he scorned earth, but because 
his head was lifted unawares by the nearness of his 
spirit to Heaven. He wanted nothing but love, 
and he had found no love in the thirty-four years 
of his life but the love of Bengal the tiger. 

He had never known father or mother. Gipsies 
had found him, a helpless baby by the roadside, and 
with gipsies he had lived awhile. Before he had 
reached the years of adolescence, he had thought 
more of life than many a grey-haired patriarch 
who has gone through all life’s changes and 
experiences. 

Jeff Smith, gipsy, had been picked up in his 
swaddling clothes on a Monday, and Jeff Monday 
he was named by the nomad family with whom he 
lived for twenty years. His skin was dark, but not 
apple russet like theirs. It could not be expressed 


.CATMUWS CAVE. 


131 


in any terms of red and brown. There was no red 
in his cheeks or lips or in the tone of his flesh. A 
painter might have described it as the grey of 
yellow-black in a dead light. 

His chin projected so as in profile to suggest negro 
blood, but seen in front this seeming vanished, for 
the lips, although of the same hue as the face, were 
close, and firm, and sweet, with human gentleness. 
When closed they looked as though about to smile, 
and no child or brute ever feared him or avoided 
him, though men and women called him ugly. 

One of the strangest things about Jeff Monday’s 
face was the relations between the expression of the 
mouth and the eyes. The eyes were what made 
people look at him twice. They were dark and 
large and luminous. They had the far-away look 
of the eyes of the great forest beasts — that far-away 
look which is never firm, never tender, never 
thoughtful, never anxious. It is not the look of 
contemplation, but of solemn, rapt indifference 
to what is near, of weary yet inexhaustible atten- 
tion to something afar off that interested one, when 
things were different, in another state. It appeared 
as if the lips of the lion-tamer would smile, when 
duty relieved him of gazing on spectacles outside 
the beholder’s sympathy and beyond the beholder’s 
ken. 


132 


CATMURS CAVE. 


In the ample and many-folded thoughts of his 
youth, Jeff Monday settled one thing about himself 
— no woman would ever love him. 

The handsome gipsies of Jeff Smith’s family 
told Jeff Monday he was hideous, and he took their 
word for it. His ugliness was as much a matter of 
certainty to him as the delicate smallness of his 
hands, at which they laughed, calling him lady- 
glove, or lily fingers, though the colour of the hands 
was no better than grey yellow-black in a dead light. 

The foreheads of the gipsies were smooth, if 
shallow, his was rough and rugged; their noses 
were aquiline and cunning, his was shapeless, snub ; 
their chins were shapely, if weak, his was square 
and prominent. He could have seen for himself, if 
he had looked inquiringly, but he took their words 
for it, and made up his mind woman’s love was not 
for him. The fortune-tellers of the family set all 
store by beauty. He had taken in with earliest 
knowledge of speech that men loved beauty in wo- 
men, and women worshipped comeliness in men, 
and that without good looks no man could win 
woman save by gold, and gold could not buy love. 
So he knew he should never win the love of 
woman. 

Then he thought of man, but he found no love 
of man for man in the gipsy tents, but hate and 


CA TMUB^ S CA VE. 1 33 

jealousy and rancour instead. It had seemed to 
him that woman might be tamed to love by a man 
possessing the will and good looks, but that man 
was a savage, full of covetous, and ungenerous, and 
predatory, and selfish thoughts, who never could 
be tamed. 

Then he turned to brutes. Dogs, it seemed to 
him, gave love for love, full measure and running 
over, and horses stretched out their necks to those 
who came to them full-handed with only gentleness, 
and asses. 

“ If,” he thought, you could only get it into an 
ass’s head that you loved him, he would die for 
you. But his race has so long browsed on thistles 
and nettles in a land paved with unkindness that 
the poor brute has lost the power of faith in 
man.” 

When Jeff Monday was twenty he began his 
experience of beasts of foreign origin in a travelling 
menagerie. Here he gave all his time and attention 
to the beasts, watching over them and attending to 
them not as though he expected anything from 
them, but waiting upon them in the hope that they 
would want him and rely on him. In time, to his 
great astonishment, the owner of the menagerie told 
him he ought to undertake the larger beasts, and he 
became a lion-tamer on the bills of the show, which 


134 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


simply meant that the larger carnivora had come to 
look on him as a being who would do them no more 
harm than a friendly one of their own species. 

His theory was that it was with all beasts — 
hyenas, jaguars, pumas and foxes — as with asses, 
only differing in degree. Man had succeeded in 
reducing the wild zebra, the untamable zebra, to 
the stolid, hopeless, stupid ass. The zebra had first 
been fierce after its kind, resenting captivity as a 
white man resents slavery, and now was stupid by 
reason of long slavery and centuries of brutal 
cruelty. Hyenas, pumas, jaguars and foxes were 
now in the fiercer stage, simply resenting captivity. 
If while you held them captive you could persuade 
them you meant them no further harm, they would 
become as tame as cows or horses. It had taken 
centuries to tame the wildcat, that most ferocious 
of all wild beasts. Why should not centuries of 
good treatment and gentleness bring up the raven- 
ing tiger to the docility of the elephant ? 

Two years ago he had come across Bengal, the 
ferocious tiger who was said to have eaten a keeper 
who entered his cage in Amsterdam. Two years 
ago the owner of a travelling menagerie had bought 
Bengal, and Jeff Monday gave up every other 
thought to that of convincing this hideous brute 
that he was a friend. 


CATMUKi^ CAVE. 


135 


Day and night he devoted himself to the beast, 
until the brute had grown as tolerant of him as of 
the indestructible bars of his cage. 

Day and night he waited on that beast as a 
mother hangs round the couch of an ailing child. 

Day and night he lavished thought on that brute 
as an enamoured poet lavishes thought upon his 
mistress. 

Day or night he never passed that cage without 
speaking kind words to the beast and caressing it 
when Ben lay near the bars, though now and then 
the beast would claw or snap at him. 

“I shall win,” thought Jeff — “I shall win in the 
end. He must — he shall know I am his friend and 
would not harm him, would do him any good in my 
power.” 

One day at feeding time the great voracious, 
greedy beast seized a huge, awkward piece of bone 
and got it fixed firmly upright in his mouth, one of 
his great yellow fangs passing through the shaft of 
the bone. The tiger became frantic. All his efforts 
to dislodge the piece failed. He growled and 
snorted and tossed round. 

Since Ben had come to England no one had dared 
to enter his cage. All shrank back from the task 
of trying to relieve the beast. It was certain death 
to go near him. Dangerous as he was at ordinary 


136 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


times, he was ten thousand times more dangerous 
now. He would kill anyone who approached him. 
If he did not get relief in an hour he would kill him- 
self. 

Chloroform was suggested, tried and failed. 

At length, in one of the intervals between the 
brute’s paroxysms of fury, Jeff Monday declared he 
would go in and try what he could do. All pro- 
tested against the risk. 

“ You’ll never come out alive,” said the other 

% 

men. 

Even the proprietor, who had paid three hundred 
and fifty pounds for the tiger, tried to dissuade Jeff, 
but he persevered. “ I can die but once,” he said. 
“ I have no one in the world looking to me for any- 
thing, no one my death would hurt. I am bound 
one day or another to come to my end by one of 
them. If it is to be now, let it be.” 

When he entered the cage the tiger’s quiet spell 
seemed coming to an end. He had already begun 
to growl and lash his tail and rub his huge gaping 
jaws with his terrible paws. 

As soon as he saw Jeff enter he raised his mis- 
shapen, seared, battered head and roared. Without 
flinching Jeff stepped up to him, and seized the 
bone in his hands, and putting his knee on the 
tiger’s neck as boldly as if the brute were a horse. 


CATMURS CAVE. 137 

tugged and tugged until the bone came away sud- 
denly. 

With the force of the released strain Jeff fell 
back. The tiger snapped his jaw, lashed his tail and 
with a snarl put his huge paw on the chest of the 
prostrate man. Suddenly, before the red-hot irons 
could be thrust in, the tiger growled, drew back his 
paw, and rising and dropping his head, began rub- 
bing his jaw against the prostrate man. 

“Don’t burn him,” said Jeff quietly. 

The red-hot bar was withdrawn. 

Jeff rose. 

The tiger rubbed his shoulder against him and 
knocked him down. 

Again the tiger seized the man’s chest with his 
cruel claws. Again Jeff said, “ Don’t burn him.” 
Again the brute withdrew his paw. Again Jeff 
rose, and this time made his way out of the cage 
with no hurt beyond a shaking and a few scratches. 

The next time Jeff passed outside the bars the 
tiger rose and accompanied him gravely, rubbing 
his hideous head against the bars. 

From that hour the two were friends. 

“ I loved him from the first,” thought Jeff, “ be- 
cause he is so ugly. No one else would ever love 
him. Women shrink from him as they shrink from 
me. lie and I were intended to be friends. They 


138 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


call me a lion-tamer. I call myself the beasts’ 
friend. I always said it was in the heart of every 
beast to love a man who showed the beast only love. 
Now, some day the tiger will turn on me and kill 
me. What matter? He is the only living thing 
that loves me. I’ll love him as long as I have the 
breath of life in my body, and when he presses it 
out of me it will be time for me to go.” 


CATMU1V8 CAVE. 


139 


CHAPTER XIV. 

CATMUR IN THE CAVE OF MAGIC. 

When Catmur slammed and fastened the two slid- 
ing-doors between the Cave of Beasts and the Cave 
of Monsters, he had intended rushing out through 
the open door at the back, and flying, he knew not 
whither, until all was over. He would keep away 
half an hour — an hour — and then come back to see 
how matters had gone on. The horrible discovery 
would, of course, burst on him as a thing wholly 
unexpected ; and then, after a while, he would re- 
member that Luxmore had let fall some preposter- 
ous words about rivalling Jeff Monday in influence 
over the tiger, with a view to propitiating the good 
opinion of Miss Starr, with whom the unfortunate 
young man had fallen hopelessly in love. 

But no sooner had the great sliding-doors clanged, 
and the fatal hasp been secured, than Catmur, who 
had never flinched before, was seized by a paralysing 
dread. All at once his nerve, which had never be- 
fore failed, deserted him. He looked around him 


140 


CATMUR8 CAVE. 


frantically for a means of escape, not from the place 
he was in, but from the thing he had done. 

His knees trembled under him. He could no 
more run across Clayton Flat than lift the gloomy 
vault in which he felt imprisoned and crushed. 

In his day he had done many daring and danger- 
ous things outside the law, but this was his first 
act of murder ; and now that it was accomplished 
all the force and courage of his nature deserted 
him. 

He knew he was no stronger than a child. 

With a horrible dread he dreaded that his mind 
would give way, and presently he would become a 
jabbering idiot, like his sister, only that he would 
be able to recall and describe events of the awful 
moments immediately preceding and following the 
hour at which his reason was taken from him. 

He staggered to a couch on which one of the mon- 
sters reclined during the exhibition, and fiung him- 
self, face down, at full length upon it. 

He put his fingers over his eyes and thrust his 
thumbs into his ears until his brain throbbed and 
beat so fiercely as to exclude the possibility of 
another sound reaching him, until the blood trickled 
slowly, drop by drop, from around the short, red 
thumbs. 

He could hear nothing. A train passed over- 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


141 


head. The vibration reached him, and the heating 
of the pulse came with a burr added to it. That 
was all the difference. 

He set himself deliberately to count. This was 
partly to take his thoughts off the distracting idea 
of losing his reason, partly to enable him to measure 
time. 

He counted a hundred beats of his pulse. If 
the tiger had attacked at once, this rmfortunate 
young man was now beyond the power of doing 
harm. 

Two hundred beats. 

Even if the tiger had been slow to attack, all 
must now be over. 

Nothing could save Luxmore. Once that brute 
touched the man, the life of the man might be 
measured by fewer seconds than had passed since 
he had counted two hundred. 

Four hundred. All was quiet on the floor inside 
but the rapacious beast. What an awful spectacle 
was there! No, no! He must not think of that! 
To think of that hideous, palpitating mass was the 
surest way of all to insanity. 

Five hundred. How long would it be necessary 
to remain thus ? To lie here waiting for something 
to happen ? 

Waiting for what to happen? 


142 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


What could happen ? What was likely to happen ? 
The thing which he had planned was done. 

Did a brute in a case of this kind tear off the 
clothes, or would the head and neck — ugh ! he must 
not think of it. He' was not compelled to think of 
it. He was not fit to think of it. 

Waiting! What was he waiting for? Was it 
not time to raise the neighbourhood? To burst 
howling through the front door in Railway Avenue 
and shout for aid, and shriek with horror, and curse 
the fool and the merciless beast. 

He knew by rote the story he should tell — that 
is, if his mind did not give way : — On coming to 
the show from his home on Clayton Flat he found 
all right in the Cave of Monsters, but on entering 
the Cave of Beasts, to his horror he discovered the 
tiger’s cage open, the tiger at large, and the unfor- 
tunate young man dead and horribly mangled. 

(He wondered was the body of Luxmore horribly 
mangled?) How did it look? Was the head — 
ugh ! 

Stop! He had not thought of everything. He 
had forgotten to supply the means of Luxmore’s 
entrance to the show. How could he account for 
the young man’s presence in the menagerie ? How 
did Luxmore get in? 

It was exasperating — one could not think of every 


CATMURS CAVE. 143 

thing — could not anticipate everything, on an occa- 
sion of such vital importance as the present. 

Suppose even now, at this moment, the people 
were clamouring for an explanation. Suppose at 
this instant he was called upon to say how the 
young man had penetrated to the middle hall, what 
should he say ? How strange one could not think 
of everything on an occasion like this ! How dis- 
tracting ! 

He had given up counting. Bah ! what a childish, 
foolish expedient that counting had been ! What 
idiocy for him to occupy time in dulling his mind 
with a senseless and mumbling string of numbers, 
when his very life might depend upon explaining in 
a reasonable way Luxmore’s presence in the Cave ! 
Already his brain must be injured in a great degree, 
when he could be guilty of such suicidal folly. 

How could he account for Luxmore getting into 
the show ? This was now for him a question of life 
and death, and he had been for several minutes try- 
ing to waste, absolutely to waste, time. 

He, who had been thinking of bursting into Rail- 
way Avenue and alarming the neighbourhood, had 
prepared no way of showing how the miserable 
victim came to be near the brute ! 

Bursting into Railway Avenue ! Why, here was 
more of his amazing stupidity ! How was he after 


144 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


opening the cage for the tiger and lighting the wet 
straw to get the brute out, and letting this young 
man into the Cave where the brute prowled about 
at large, to pass through that Cave of Beasts with 
the deadly creature free, and the still more deadly, 
inert, torn, bleeding mass lying on the crimson 
patch in the sawdust ? 

Mad! Mad! He was mad! Mad already! He 
had devised this young man’s destruction in order 
that he might come by old Greyborne’s money, and 
here was he now at the very first step of the terrible 
way stricken down by a physical weakness for which 
he was wholly imprepared, and his whole plan, his 
very life, menaced by the break-down of his intellect ! 
What good was his plot ? What good would the 
money he to him, if his reason was destroyed ? 

His very life was menaced! Ay, and by the 
hangman, too. 

He wondered had the tiger torn off the IJgh ! 

how that question haunted him ! Not a question 
put in words, hut worse, a question put in an incom- 
plete picture. He could see in his mind’s eye all 
that had gone on in the menagerie since he slammed 
the doors, hut he could not see, he did not want to 
see, the head and neck of the victim, and yet he 
was always on the point of seeing the head and 
neck — or was it where the head and neck had been ? 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 145 

What should he do ? What should he do ? What 
should he do ? 

Already he had made two terrible miscalculations ; 
he had not thought of affording a reasonable means 
of entry for Luxmore to the menagerie, and he had 
not taken into accomit the impossibility of his own 
passing through the menagerie to Railway Avenue 
while the tiger was at large — after the tiger had 
done his work — while the hideous and mangled 
remains were 

IJgh ! There was that awful pictorial question 
again stopping short at the shoulders. He could 
see all the prostrate body, hut at the shoulders the 
picture stopped short. Beyond the shoulders hung 
a veil. He could put aside that veil if he liked. 
He would not do so for all the gold that ever 
glittered. His terrifying thought was that some 
unseen hand, the hand of Retribution, would pull 
that veil hack, and that when he saw beyond he 
would burst into maniac laughter, dash among 
people and scream out a history of the past hour. 

Hour! Was it an hour? Could it be an hour 
since he had shaken that young man’s hand — shaken 
his hand ? The hands were bare ! Had the tiger — 
were the hands gone 

Merciful Heaven! Now the veil was rent, and 

he saw beyond the shoulders at last ! 

10 


146 


CATMUB''S CAVE. 


In the picture he saw the body maimed and torn 
and mangled, the hands missing, from the headless 
trunk a stream of blood gushed out upon the ground ! 
Standing over the prostrate form an enormous, 
odious tiger leered at him as he lapped the blood ! 

With a yell Catmur sprung from the couch on 
which he had been lying. He was weak and trem- 
bling. 

He glanced around in abject terror. He dreaded 
to find the place full of people. In the brief moment 
of springing up he imagined he should find himself 
the centre of a throng of men holding out towards 
him threatening, denouncing hands. Over the 
heads of the crowd, he in fancy saw the helmets of 
the police. Behind the crowd and the helmets he 
pictured a hangman with a rope standing waiting 
for him under a gibbet. 

At first he was dazed and could not see. The 
place was almost in total darkness. The long- 
continued pressure of his fingers on his eyeballs 
made his sight uncertain, phantasmagoric. He 
found difficulty in believing he was in the Cave 
of Monsters, difficulty in making out the familiar 
objects. 

It was yet hard to believe he was alone. What ! 
had no one up to this discovered the tiger had killed 
this young man ? That was incredible ! 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


147 


Now he could make out more clearly where he 
stood. Now he could see where the larger familiar 
objects lay, the divans or couches on which the 
monsters sat, the chairs and tables, the cabinets of 
curiosities, the dais at the back where Millie per- 
formed close to a door at the back opening on the 
Flat. 

How dull the day was outside ! The fog must 
have thickened. He had no wish to see that other 
door, the door opening into the menagerie, into the 
death chamber. And yet, though he paid his life for 
it, he must look. 

He put his hand over his face, closed his eyes and 
turned slowly round. He trembled all over ; his 
knees smote together. He could hardly stand. 

Swiftly he took away his hand, opened his eyes 
and looked. 

With a groan he fell to the ground. 

The sliding-doors were flung fully back. The 
whole floor of the menagerie was plainly visible 
to him under the better light from the skylights. 
The ground of the menagerie was on a level with 
his eyes. 

What he saw was worse than the worst his 
excited fancy had pictured. 

He saw the long, wide expanse of sawdust-covered 
floor. He saw the legs of the small stand in the 


148 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


drawer of which was kept the tiger’s knife, the legs 
of the chairs, nothing more. This Nothing was in 
some awful way worse than the worst something he 
had been prepared for. 

He crawled forward to the doorway of the Cave 
of Beasts and looked in. 

The door of the tiger’s cave was closed, the long, 
striped back of the tiger was visible through the 
bars. There was no trace of any human being in 
the place, no gory fragments, no torn clothes, only 
just by the door a pool of fresh blood. 


VATMUWS CAVE, 


149 


CHAPTER XV. 

MILLIE STAER. 

The cold sweat broke out on Catmur’s mottled fore- 
head and dropped into the sawdust on which he 
crouched. 

What had happened ? 

How came it that the tiger was back in his cage, 
the cage door shut and bolted and the — ^the body 
not here ? Who opened the doors of the Cave of 
Beasts ? What had been found when the sliding- 
doors were shut back ? 

Were the police already on his track ? 

It could not be the police were on his track, for 
no living human being knew, or ever could know, 
what had occurred in this place between Luxmore 
and himself to-day. 

How came the doors rolled back, the tiger in his 
cage and the body carried away ? 

Whoever did all this must have passed close by 
him as he lay on that couch. How was it they did 


150 CATMUR'S CAVE. 

not rouse him ? did not touch him ? did not arrest 
him ? 

Oh, he had forgotten. Of course, the Cave of 
Monsters was quite dark, and his figure recumbent 
on the couch at the side would be absolutely invis- 
ible. His plugged ears prevented him from hearing 
anything, from hearing anyone come in, from hearing 
the doors rolled back, from hearing them carry away 
the dead. 

Yes, but who had opened the sliding-doors, and 
got the tiger back to his cage and carried away — the 
body, the dreadful headless and handless trunk 
which had lain in that awful red pool ? 

Catmur rose slowly and painfully to his feet. He 
felt the ground beneath him was not firm, and 
might give away at any moment, at any point. 
His nerves were so shattered he could not rely on any 
of his limbs or muscles, or any of his senses : any- 
thing, everything might fail him and precipitate 
him headlong into an unseen abyss. 

No matter what had happened, it would not be 
advisable for him to be found here just now. He 
was not in a condition of mind or body to speak or 
act. He should betray or commit himself. 

He would take one more careful look around 
and go. 

At that moment a figure was rapidly approach- 


CATMUB'8 CAVE. 151 

ing his back though the dense darkness of the Cave 
of Monsters. 

Catmur, in the act of turning round to hasten 
away, to his horror heard a voice in the darkness 
behind him say : 

“ Oh, he is dead ! ” 

With a shriek Catmur sprang round. He could 
not see. He was blinded for a moment, partly by 
the darkness and partly by terror caused by this 
voice coming unawares from the blind, cavernous 
depths behind him. 

“ Millie, is that you ? You terrified me,” moaned 
Catmur, as a tall, dark girl stepped out of the gloom 
of the arch into the better light of the menagerie. 

“ Oh, he is dead ! ” the girl cried, wringing her 
hands and standing on the threshold looking into 
the menagerie. 

Catmur, possessed by a new terror, turned and 
glanced once more at the ground of the menagerie. 

Did some affection of the brain prevent his seeing 
things visible to other people? Could Millie see 
stretched on the ground the body of Hugh Luxmore ? 
Was the body, the awful headless and handless body, 
weltering in its gore, invisible to him a few feet 
off ? He could see nothing on the ground. What 
did she mean by crying out when she looked at 
nothing, “ Oh, he is dead ” ? 


152 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


“ Dead ! ” he cried aloud, in an agony of terror. 
“ Who is dead, girl ? What do you see ? ” 

“ Look ! ” she cried, pointing to the red pool. 

“I see no one dead. I see only blood.” lie 
trembled so that he was in danger of falling 
again. 

“ But look,” she pointed. “ He does not stir. He 
is dead. Can’t you see he is dead ? ” 

Catmur followed with his eyes the direction of 
her hand. “ What do you mean ? Are you too mad ? 
Cannot you speak? Who is dead? You are point- 
ing at the cage. Who is dead! I say ? ” 

“ Ben the tiger. Jeff shot him dead. Look, he 
does not stir.” 

Suddenly Catmur became calmer. He took one 
long, sharp look at the tiger in the cage. He crept 
cautiously across the sawdust to the bars of the 
tiger’s cage. 

He pulled out a handspike from between two of 
the vans and thrust the handspike between the bars 
and pushed it against the tiger’s back. 

The girl moved across the threshold and ap- 
proached the tiger’s cage. As she came into the 
better light her surprising, exquisite dark beauty 
was revealed. Her large, marvellously mysterious 
eyes were now suffused with tears ; her face was 
now long and wan and sad, but the beauty of it was 


CATMUR8 CAVE. 158 

indestructible, the beauty of it seemed to light and 
to subdue the place. 

The tiger did not stir. Catmur threw down the 
handspike, and going to the end of the van opened 
the cage. 

Never before had that long, striped side lain 
motionless when the bars of that door rang and 
grated. 

Catmur entered the cage and approached the 
great brute warily. One lightning sweep of one of 
these terrible paws, armed with its hooked, sharp, 
resistless claws, would tear the vitals out of a man, 
and leave him an empty carcase, a dying, palpitat- 
ing husk. One crunch of these curved, eager, yellow 
fangs and one wrest of that short, wrinkled neck 
would tear all the life glands and ducts out of a 
human throat. One clutch of a ferocious paw upon 
a human head wordd leave behind a raw and 
scalped skull. 

But the tiger did not move a muscle. The eyes 
were glazed, the deep chest did not move, the nos- 
trils did not quiver, the monarch of the jungle lay 
still and stark. 

“ He was shot from behind,” said Catmur. “ The 
bullet took him at the butt of the ear and came out 
through the forehead. 

“ From behind ? Of course, from behind. Do you 


154 


CATMUR'^S CAVE. 


think Jeff Monday could shoot the tiger in front, 
looking at him ? ” she asked indignantly. 

“Why did Jeff shoot the tiger?” asked Catmur, 
backing out of the cage. Well as he knew the 
great tiger was dead, he durst not even now turn 
his back on the mighty beast. “ Why did Jeff shoot 
him ? I was not here.” 

“Jeff shot him because Ben had got loose and 
was killing a man who had got in here.” 

“ A man who had got in here,” said Catmur softly 
as he gained the floor. He thought, “ a man who had 
got in here; is that all she knows? is that all Jeff 
knows?” He added aloud, “This is a bad affair. 
The tiger was worth three hundred and flfty pounds. 
Tell me all you know about the affair.” 

“I do not know much. I only know that the 
tiger is dead and that he will die.” She covered her 
face with her hands and burst into hysterical sobs. 

Catmur started back and stood gazing at the girl 
in profound amazement. She only knew that the 
tiger was dead and that he would die ! How came 
she to be so much interested in the fact that Lux- 
more would die ? It was plain from what she had 
said Luxmore was not yet dead. But he was in a 
bad way — dying. Had Luxmore strength enough to 
say anything that would incriminate him ? Nothing 
was more unlikely than Luxmore could or would 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


156 


say anything dangerously incriminatory, for all 
Luxmore could say was that he asked the young 
man to wait a moment for him in the place where 
they had met the day before, the only part of the 
show in which there was daylight, and that when 
the young man got in there the tiger, owing to some 
dreadful accident, was at large. It had happened 
over and over again in menageries that some of the 
beasts got free. Of course, if Luxmore was able 
to give an account of the occurrence, it would no 
longer be possible to relate the story of Luxmore 
wishing to rival Jeff Monday in Jeff’s performance 
with the tiger. The thing was more awkward than 
if Luxmore had been killed outright. He could 
not ask the girl direct questions. Direct questions 
might betray him. He would like to ask how Jeff 
happened to be near at the critical moment, but 
that explanation had better be sought of Jeff him- 
self. What did puzzle him was that the girl should 
show such an extraordinary interest in Luxmore, of 
whom she knew nothing whatever, and whom she 
had seen only as an ordinary visitor to the show. 
Said Catmur : 

“ The tiger is dead and he will die ! Who will 
die? Who was the man Jeff saved?” 

“ I don’t know,” wept the girl. 

“ You don’t know who the man is that Jeff saved, 


156 CATMUWS CAVE. 

and yet you are in this dreadful state about him.” 

“About cried Millie, taking down her 

hands from her tear-stained face, and staring at the 
showman in astonishment. “ The strange man is 
hurt,” she said, “ but I do not think he will die. I 
was not thinking of him.” 

Catmur looked at the beautiful, tear-stained face 
in amazement. Again the shattering thought came 
in upon him, was his mind giving way ? He said : 
“What do you mean when you say he will die? 
Do you not mean the man the tiger attacked ? ” 
“No.” 

“ Then who do you mean ? ” 

“ Jeff, of course ! ” said the girl in astonishment. 

“ Jeff ! ” cried Catmur. “ What do you mean ? 
Has the tiger hurt Jeff Monday too? ” 

“ I think the tiger has killed Jeff Monday,” she 
said sadly. 

“ Eh ? ” yelled Catmur, springing up to her. 

“ By being killed by Jeff Monday.” 

“ You are talking folly to drive me mad.” 

“ Did Jeff care for anything in all the world but 
the tiger? Did he love anything else in all the 
world but the tiger ? ” 

“No.” 

“ And he killed the tiger,” she said, looking in 
surprise at Catmur’s want of perception. 


CATMUR^S CAVE, 


167 


“ So you say.” 

“ Then he will die. Do you think I would live if 
I killed my mother ? ” 

“ But your mother is a human being, and your 
mother, moreover,” said Catmur angrily, “ and not 
a savage beast, and it would be different.” 

“ Yes, but a woman is not so strong as a man, and 
a man’s love is stronger than a woman’s. And now 
Jeff has nothing to love, and in the night he will 
think always of his killing the tiger, and it will kill 
him.” 

“Upon my word,” cried Catmur scornfully, “I 
think you are half in love with that sick nigger, 
Jeff.” 

“ I wish he were half in love with me,” she said, 
bursting into tears, “ if it would take his mind off 
what he has done this morning, for thinking of it 
always will kill him.” 

“ Come, come, Millie, child, these are serious affairs 
that have happened to-day. Is the man who was 
hurt conscious ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ Do you know where he is ? ” 

“ Jeff brought him home to our house.” 

“ That is right,” said Catmur, with a gasp of re- 
lief, “ and no one else has been to our place?” 


158 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


“ Very good. Let us get back then at once. We 
need not put off the midday performance. No one 
outside ourselves and Jeff must know all about this. 
We can just say the tiger died — make up some 
story about Ben between this and opening time. 
Come.’^ 


CATMUWS CAVE, 


159 


CHAPTER XVI. 

WHY JEFF MONDAY FIEED. 

“Uncle,” said the girl to Catmur, as they were 
walkmg through the cold grey fog towards the 
house, “ how did the tiger get loose ? ” 

“ I don’t know. What does Jeff say ! What did 
he tell you?” 

“ He said nothing. He would say nothing. All 
he told me is that he happened to be near the show 
and he heard Ben growling. He knew by the growl 
something was wrong. He got into the Cave of 
Beasts and found the tiger killing the man. He 
seized the rifle and fired, just in time to kill the 
tiger and save the man. That was all he would say. 
That was all, indeed, I think, he could say. I be- 
lieve Jeff’s mind is gone. He is in the parlour sit- 
ting staring and smiling — staring out of eyes that see 
nothing, as if he were looking at the tiger still, only 
looking at the tiger, where he must not expect a look 
back to him. Uncle, it is awful.” 


160 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


“ And Jeff has only told you what you have told 
me?” 

“ That’s all. I put mother to sit with the strange 
man and told him to send her for Jeff if he wanted 
anything. I sent Susan for a doctor, and I ran over 
to the show in the hope of finding you.” 

“ And you found me just come hack. What does 
this young man say ? ” 

“ He says he called on you about business of im- 
portance. That he came by appointment. That he 
had seen you yesterday on the same business. That 
you told him to go into the menagerie where you 
had met him yesterday, and that you said you would 
be back to him in a moment, and that you shut the 
door, and instantly the tiger sprang on him, and he 
remembers nothing more until Jeff Monday was 
carrying him on his shoulder across the Flat to the 
house.” 

“ Yes, my dear, the young man is quite right. I 
have had a good many important things on my mind 
of late, and just as this young man called I remem- 
bered I had a letter in my pocket that must be 
posted at once at the Clayton Junction head office if 
it was to be in time ; so I asked him to wait a few 
minutes while I went to the post. You see, I didn’t 
know Jeff was near. If I had known Jeff was near 
I should have asked him to go to the post-office. I 


CATMURS CAVE. 


161 


was not in with the beasts to-day, until I went in 
with you just now. When I saw the blood and 
missed the young' man, I knew something dreadful 
had happened. How came the flap shutters of the 
cage down? How was the body of the tiger got 
back to the cage ? ” 

“Jeff carried Ben hack and let down the side 
shutter before he carried the young man away.” 

“ And, Millie, are you sure that neither Jeff nor 
the young man said any more to you than you have 
told me ? Be careful, my child, for this young man 
may bring an action for damages against me, and it 
is important. I should know exactly, even down to 
the least thing, down to tiny little things that might 
never seem to you of consequence. Here is the 
house now. My dear Millie, try to think if Jeff or 
this young man gave any more particulars of the 
affair.” 

“ ISTo, uncle, I think not ; nothing that I can re- 
member, at all events.” 

Catmur heaved a deep sigh of relief as he entered 
his home. Perhaps no one, not even Jeff, suspected 
yet. It was treading on hot irons, wandering blind- 
fold among staked pitfalls until he knew more. 
He had been obliged to invent a new story to fit in 
with the present posture of affairs. And he must 
say as little as ever he could until he was able to 


162 CATMUWS CAVE. 

fit the rest of the tale he had to tell into the tales 
Luxmore and Jeff would tell. 

Catmur and Millie went to the parlour. They 
found Jeff sitting hack in an easy-chair, with his 
hands hi his pockets, staring out before him. 

When he saw the showman he nodded. Catmur 
sat down and took off his hat. 

Millie went up to the lion-tamer and put her 
hand sympathetically on his shoulder. 

He did not look up. He took no notice of the 
girl’s presence. His eyes were turned on Catmur. 

“ Have you seen him ? ” he asked of Catmur at 
length. 

“ The tiger? Yes.” 

“ Have you shut up the flap door ? ” 

‘‘ No.” 

“ If there’s to he an afternoon show to-day the 
flap door must he shut up before the people are let 
in,” said Jeff in a low, constrained voice. 

“ I thought the people who liked him might like 
to see him — to see the last of him.” 

“No one shall see the tiger dead,” said Jeff with 
enormous slowness and deliberation. “No one liked 
him or loved him hut me. They would insult him.” 

“ Very well, Jeff. Don’t take on so had. You 
see I lose something too. He was worth three 
hundred and fifty pounds to me.” 


. CA TMUW S CA VE. 1 63 

“ But I shot the tiger with that rifle there to 
save human life ” 

Catmur raised his hand to silence Jeff, and look- 
ing at the girl, who still stood by the stricken man 
with her hand on his shoulder, motioned her away, 
saying, “ Leave us, Millie, my dear, and when the 
doctor comes call me.” 

Jeff looked up at her, noticing her for the flrst 
time. “ Yes, Millie,” he said impatiently, “ go away. 
We have business to talk about.” 

“ What business have you to talk about,” she 
said, “ except forgetting your sorrow ? ” 

“ Leave us now, my child,” said Catmur gently, 
“ and call me when the doctor comes.” 

With clasped hands and bowed head and tearful 
eyes bent upon the ground the young girl glided 
out of the room. 

Catmur got up and shut and locked the door. 
Then he came back to his chair, sat down, and, 
half closing his eyes, looked at Jeff Monday and 
said : 

“ Where were you when you fired?” 

“ In the doorway between the front Cave and the 
Beasts’ Cave.” 

“ How long had you been there ? ” 

“ A minute before I fired.” 

“ Did you see the young man go in ? ” 


164 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


“ No. When he went in I was behind the cur- 
tains.” 

“ What were you doing there then ? Hiding ? ” 

“ Yes. Hiding.” 

“ Tell me a little about it ? ” said Catmur, breath- 
ing hard and wiping his forehead. 

“ Yesterday I saw you rehearsing that play with 
this young man. You had no right to make the 
tiger growl by showing him that knife. I thought 
it must be a dangerous play that required that 
knife when a man’s neck was bent imder it. I had 
it in my mind an accident might occur.” 

“Well?” 

“ Well, I made up my mind to be about to-day at 
the same time ” 

“ You did not hear me make an appointment 
with him yesterday? You were not hiding when 
he and I were here yesterday ? ” 

“No. I came to-day by chance. I thought there 
might be another rehearsal, and there wasn’t. I 
was disappointed.” 

“ Disappointed ? ” 

“Yes, there was no rehearsal. There was the 
play itself — the tragedy itself.” 

Catmur opened his lips on his clenched teeth, 
drew in a breath noisily, and said : 

“ Go on.” 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


165 


“ So I thought I’d look in rather early. I came 
in from Railway Avenue as I did so. I thought 
something was wrong, but I could not tell what. I 
knew all was not right with the tiger, hut I could 
not think what was wrong. I must have opened 
the doors at my side as you opened the doors at 
yours. I heard the tiger spring and the man 
shriek. The rifle is always behind the curtains in 
the angle between the two Caves. I seized it and 
looked in. The tiger had him by the head, and in 
another second would have broken the man’s neck. 
I got the butt of the tiger’s lug on the sight and 
fired.” Jeff paused and freed his coUar gently at 
the throat. 

“ Ay,” said Catmur hoarsely. 

“ The tiger rolled over without a sound. I carried 
the rifle in with me. I examined the man. He was 
stunned, I suppose, by having his head knocked 
against the door or the ground when the tiger 
sprang. I think his thigh is broken. I saw he was 
in no great danger. I carried the tiger back into 
the cage lest anyone coming in might — might 
touch, might kick my dead beast.” Jeff had to 
pause a moment. 

“ I know.” 

“ Then I carried the man here and put him to 
bed. He recovered his senses on the way back here. 


166 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


I carried the man on my shoulder and the rifle in 
my hand. I don’t think the man will die. I have 
put another cartridge in the rifle. I am thinking of 
putting that bullet through the butt of my own lug.” 

“ Nonsense, Jeff.” 

“ I have nothing — nothing in the world to live 
for now. I am glad I killed him — I am glad no one 
else killed him. I always thought he would kill me. 
I wish it had been that way, for now, Bart Catmur, 
I am alone.” 

“And you killed the tiger you loved so much, 
Jeff Monday, to save a man you never exchanged a 
word with.” 

“ Never exchanged a word with ! ” cried Jeff, sit- 
ting up and staring at the other with eyes that for 
the first time seemed occupied with present objects. 
“ Never exchanged a word with, Bart Catmur ! Are 
you mad ? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Are you mad ? Did not you shoot your tiger to 
prevent his killing this man Luxmore ? ” 

“ To prevent his killing this man Luxmore ! ” 
cried Jeff in astonishment. “ Why, that dandy Lux- 
more is not good enough meat for my tiger I ” 

“ Then why, why did you fire ? ” 

“ To save human life.” 

“ His life ? The life of a man who was not good 
enough meat for your tiger ? ” 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 167 

“ 'No. To save your life. To save your neck from 
the hangman’s rope, Bart Catmur.” 

There was a knock at the door and Millie’s voice 
said, “ Uncle, the doctor has come. Is he to go 
up?” 

“ ISTo,” said Catmur, rising hastily. “ I want to 
see Mr. Luxmore first.” 


168 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


CHAPTER XYII. 

IN THE SIC K-R O O M. 

Catmur unlocked the parlour door, and telling Millie 
to say he would he down with the doctor presently, 
dashed upstairs. 

Luxmore had been carried by Jeff to Catmur’s 
own room. He lay on the bed pale and blood- 
stained, with a look of terror and pain on his 
face. 

“ I cannot express to you,” said Catmur, standing 
over the injured man, “my horror and regret at 
what has happened. I do not know how the beast 
got loose. When I came back from the post-office 
I nearly died of the fright when I heard all. Only 
my servant Jeff Monday shot the brute. Heaven 
knows what might have happened. I have only 
just got back here to the house. The beast cost me 
three hundred and fifty pounds. Need I say that I 
would rather lose ten times the money than that 
you should be so cruelly hurt ? ” 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


169 


“How came you to fasten me in? I heard you 
hasp the door on the outside. Had you looked in 
you must have seen the brute.” Luxmore spoke 
slowly and with difficulty, contorting his face hor- 
ribly with pain. 

“ Those doors will not stay closed unless they are 
hasped. They are made to run hack when the hasp 
is undone. I would to Heaven I had seen the brute, 
I would have gladly placed my body between you 
and him. If I left the door open when you went in, 
someone passing by might see you, and for your 
sake as well as my own I wished no one to be aware 
you had called on me to-day. I could not shut the 
back door opening on the Flat, as I had lost my key, 
and could not get in again if I once closed it. Oh, 
surely, surely, Luxmore, you cannot fancy I had any 
design, any notion that harm could come to you? 
What good could harming you do me ? Did you not 
make me the offer of a prince ? ” 

In the course of his professional career Catmur 
had often acted before, but never so well as now. 
His voice, manner and gestures were those of a 
heart-broken man. Tears flowed copiously from 
his eyes — tears of fear and intense self-pity. He 
felt the terrible grief of one who has committed 
crime — in vain. 

“ You told me yesterday I should face the brute. 


170 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


I told you I would not. You seem not only to 
know what ought to he done by me, but to possess 
the power of prophecy in my affairs.” 

“ He doubts me ! As I live he doubts me ! ” cried 
Catmur, in a tone of insupportable woe and agonis- 
ing grief at being suspected. “ Doubts me who had 
arranged to-day to put everything he wanted in his 
hands ! Oh, Luxmore, do not drive me mad. Do 
not drive me to use the same rifle that saved you. 
Only this moment Jeff had to wrench it out of my 
hand. Say you will believe me.” 

“ I am very weak now and not flt to decide any- 
thing.” 

“I know that. Too bitterly I can see it. I have 
sent for the best surgical aid in the neighbourhood. 
Everything that skill and money can do to put you 
right at once shall be done. You will be up and 
about in no time, and Millie shall nurse you while 
you are here, and I’ll do all I can for you with her. 
There will be no difiiculty in that quarter, and you 
shall have any papers I have and the advantage of 
my own testimony. I know you won’t leave me 
empty-handed. I know you won’t go back on your 
word about the twenty thousand.” 

“ If you do all you say, I shall be better than my 
word,” said Luxmore, more influenced by Catmur’s 
artistic stipulation for the twenty thousand than all 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


171 


which had gone before. Indeed, these words gave 
weight and reality to Catmur’s long speeches. It 
now appeared to Luxmore that Catmnr’s great de- 
sire to be considered innocent sprang from the 
dread of losing the promised reward. “ If I recover 
and succeed, I shall make it forty thousand,” said 
Luxmore, doubling the sum by way of paying an 
extra risk insurance rate on his life, now that his 
life was in Catmur’s power, now that he found him- 
self helpless under Catmur’s roof. 

Catmur caught the injured man’s hand and shed 
tears over it. “ You have the heart of a gentleman 
and the open hand of a prince. This accident will 
turn the people against the show, and my great 
attraction is gone with the tiger. The affair of to- 
day may ruin me, and I am not a young man. My 
old age is near, and I suppose I shall always have to 
do for my unfortunate sister Ellen. But I could not 
allow myself to intrude so deeply on your generosity. 
As you have mentioned forty, I would hardly like 
to go back to the old figure. If we say thirty, six 
months after you are married to Millie, I shall be 
more than contented — I shall always think of you 
with gratitude.” 

“ Yery well,” said Luxmore, who in his weak and 
shaken condition was not critical, and whom the 
vigour and earnestness of Catmur’s protestations 


172 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


overpowered. “Very well, let it be as you say, 
only I am not fit to talk business now.” 

“ I know that,” said Catmur earnestly. “ Who 
can possibly know better than I how weak and up- 
set you must feel now ? I ask you one favour, it 
will cost you nothing. You can do it without any 
cost or trouble.” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ Suspend your judgment for a month, until you 
are quite well again, until I can take you over the 
ground and show you how the whole horrible acci- 
dent happened. It can do you no harm to do what 
I ask. When the time is up and you have been over 
the ground, and you have heard my explanation and 
heard Jeff’s, you may say what you please. But a 
word now to the doctor or anybody else would ruin 
the show, and I can’t bear to have such a rumour 
get about — I mean a rumour imputing even careless- 
ness. For you must know that if people began to 
say the wild beasts in Catmur’ s show were not 
properly secured and looked after, I might as well 
ring down the curtain forever, and that would be a 
hard ending after my long and arduous life.” 

“Yes, I’ll do as you say. I’ll tell the doctor that 
I made fun with the tiger and deserve what I got.” 

“ I thank you more for that, Luxmore, than for 
your noble promise of the thirty thousand. You 


CATMURS CAVE. 


173 


won’t mind saying that I left you while I went to 
post a letter, and that you opened the cage, and that 
was how it happened.” 

“ I’ll say that, if it’s any good to you.” 

“ Good to me ! Why, my most generous friend, 
it’s my life, my salvation.” 

“ All right. I cannot talk any more now.” 

“ Quite right. Do not say another word to me, 
and only what you said just now to the doctor. 
Hark! I hear him below. I’ll fetch him up my- 
self.” 

And Catmur hastened out of the room. 

The doctor was old and matter-of-fact and not at 
all inquisitive. He said there was no danger to the 
patient’s life, if complications did not set in. There 
were some severe scalp wounds, a simple fracture 
of the thigh-bone and shock to the system. With 
care and good nursing there was every reason to 
look for a satisfactory ending to the case. The 
patient had the inestimable blessing of good health 
and youth to befriend him. Would Mr. Catmur 
think of letting his young friend be taken to an 
hospital? Hospitals often gave a patient abetter 
chance of speedy recovery than a private house, 
particularly in accident cases. 

“ Do you think the devotion of my niece and 
myself would be as good for him as an hospital ? ” 


174 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


“ Oh, much better ! Sometimes people are glad 
to have cases of this kind treated in an hospital, 
that was all. No doubt Mr. Luxmore would make 
quicker progress if he were with friends.” 

“ He is with friends,” said Catmur with a quaver- 
ing voice — “ with friends who will pull him through, 
if good wishes and money and devotion can pull 
him through.” 

“ The patient himself would no doubt rather be 
nursed here,” said the doctor to Luxmore, who 
was now lying back exhausted after the examina- 
tion. 

“ Oh, infinitely, thank you, doctor ; ” and so the 
matter was decided. Then the doctor took his 
leave, promising to send medicines and mechanical 
contrivances for the broken limb and to call again 
in the evening to see how the patient got on. 

The time of the afternoon performance was now 
at hand, and Luxmore was left in the charge of 
Susan and Mrs. Starr, the latter sitting in the room, 
but entrusted with no duties or powers beyond 
those of handing a drink or summoning Susan if 
the injured man wanted anything. 

The doctor sent some soothing draught, and 
shortly after taking it the shattered nerves of Lux- 
more lost their jarred, torn feeling and he sank into 
sleep. 


CA TMUW S CA VE. 175 

No sooner was Catmur released from the Caves 
than he hastened hack to the sick-room. 

“ You have had some sleep and already feel 
better,” said he cheerfully. 

“ Yes. I feel better m a way and worse, hut no 
worse than the doctor said I should he. I hope I 
am not in for fever and delirium.” 

‘‘ Oh, nothing of the kind. You will he a little 
feverish, no doubt, hut nothing like downright fever, 
you know ; and as to delirium, that only comes in 
bad cases, and yours is going to be a good case. 
You are going to cut the record of quick recoveries.” 

“ I have been wondering what I ought to do 
about Mr. Greyborne,” said the young man. 

“ He does not know you are here ? He does not 
know anything of your coming here, or of Millie?” 
asked Catmur, affecting carelessness so as to deceive 
the secretary. 

“ No. He knows absolutely nothing at all.” 

“ He can’t very well come here,” said Catmur, 
who had not yet had time to make new plans for 
the new condition of affairs. 

“No, no,” said Luxmore eagerly. “He could not 
see Miss Starr without being set thinking.” 

“ But he could come here without seeing her. 
When you came here first you did not see her.” 

“ That’s true. If I am not back for dinner to-day 


176 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


he will wonder what has happened to me. I have 
never yet failed to turn up at dinner.” 

“ Can I do anything ? ” asked Catmur. “ The 
evening show will be on us now in no time.” 

“ Give me a pencil and a piece of paper,” said 
Luxmore, “ and I’ll write a line.” 

When the note was finished Catmur took it to 
post it. The note was open. It ran : 

“ The Farm, Clayton Flat. 

“ Dear Sir, 

“ I have met with an accident. I have broken 
my leg and cannot move. The doctor says it will 
be weeks before I can get about. 

“ Yours very faithfully, 

“ Hugh Luxmore.” 

Catmur took the letter to post it. Before doing 
so he opened the freshly-gummed envelope and tore 
off the address. Then he dropped the letter into a 
pillar box at the other side of Clayton Flat and 
went on to the Caves for the evening performance. 


CATMUIVS CAVE. 


177 


CHAPTER XVIII. 
luxmore’s new scheme. 

After the evening performance Catmnr came to 
Luxmore and said, “ I am only too glad, Luxmore, 
to have you in my room. I am a light sleeper. If 
you want anything in the night you will call me. 
Here’s a hand-bell. Millie is too tired after the show 
to come up. She’ll come in the morning.” 

Dr. Frazer had made his second visit before Cat- 
mur’s return from the show and declared the pa- 
tient to be going on satisfactorily. He had sent 
another soothing draught, and Luxmore had taken 
it, so that he was in no humour for contention of 
conversation when Catmur came back. Luxmore 
was half asleep and only said, “Very well, thank 
you,” and fell asleep soon after. 

He awoke towards morning. For a while he had 
some difficulty in remembering where he was. At 
last it all came back to him with a flash, and for 
the first time from that awful moment when he saw 
the tiger flashing through the air at him his mind 


178 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


was clear. The dull, heavy throbbing in his leg was 
more uneasiness than pain. His head was stiff and 
sore and aching, and all his blood seemed too hot 
and too thick. But his mind was comparatively 
clear — was clear enough for thinking over the 
case. 

A lamp, dimmed down, was burning on the table, 
and Catmur, partly dressed, was snoring on a 
stretcher at the other end of the room. In the 
large and hospitable grate of the old farm-house a 
fire smouldered. There was not a sound to be heard 
but the heavy, incessant rumble of goods trains toil- 
ing in the desolate hours of darkness through Clay- 
ton Junction, in the distance, and the heavy breath- 
ing of the showman close at hand. 

The first operation of thought in Luxmore’s mind 
was alarming in the extreme : 

Here was he lying helpless, within a dozen feet of 
the man who that morning had deliberately exposed 
him to death. Here was he in the silence and dark- 
ness of night under the roof of this lonely, isolated 
house, with the man who had that day deliberately 
tried to murder him. 

No matter what Catmur had said to him and he 
had said to Catmur that day before the doctor came, 
the showman had thrust him into the wild beasts’ 
house and locked him in, knowing the tiger was at 


CATMUWS CAVE. 179 

large, and with the intention that the beast should 
kill him. 

Catmur had done this because his arrival on the 
scene and suggestion with respect to marrying the 
girl interfered with Catmur’s schemes, though how 
Catmur calculated on making more than forty 
thousand pounds out of the secret he could not 
imagine. 

That man sleeping over there had tried to murder 
him this day, and since that attempt no change had 
occurred which could lessen that man’s desire for 
his death. 

The situation was horrible, but he had been so 
near death in the Caves that death owned much 
less terror for him now than it had the day before. 
Twenty-four hours ago it had seemed death did not 
belong to the species of which he was a member, 
but to some species living elsewhere, infinitely in 
the future, fifty years off. Now he had looked at 
death, had made acquaintance with it, had touched 
it, had in fancy gone through its grim portals, and 
he felt calmer when thinking of it than he had of 
old felt in thinking of less awful things. 

This man who had attempted his life in the 
morning would scarcely repeat the attempt under 
present circumstances. He had gone secretly to 
the Caves, no one knew whither he had intended 


180 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


going, and if that beast had killed him, in all like- 
lihood Catmur could have satisfied inquiry. But 
now half a dozen people knew where he was and a 
doctor was attending him. 'No violence would come 
to him under that roof. 

No longer would he place the least reliance on 
Catmur. He would not trust the showman’s pro- 
testations or promises. While he was in this house 
he should affect to treat Catmur as a friend and 
ally. But he would trust the showman in nothing, 
and out of this place he would get as soon as ever 
he could he moved. 

He had no feeling of defeat. He had encountered 
a check ; that was all. By and by he should be up 
and about, and he should put in operation other 
means of accomplishing his end. He should cer- 
tainly have nothing more to do with Bartholomew 
Catmur beyond speaking him fair and keeping up 
the belief in the showman’s mind that he still 
meant to trust and rely on Bart. 

Why, already Catmur had begun to deceive him. 
Had he not been given to understand that the nurs- 
ing would be undertaken by Millie, and had the girl 
been allowed in? Why, she had not even been 
introduced to him. 

Oh, no, there was no trusting Bart Catmur. If 
he were to succeed he must succeed without the 


CATMURS CAVE. 


181 


showman — and he thought he could. It was a 
risk, no doubt, hut he thought he could establish 
the identity of Millie Starr with Inez Greyhorne to 
the satisfaction of John Greyhorne Avithout the aid 
of Bartholomew Catmur at all. His new scheme 
would take time and would he attended with risk — 
nay, even danger, hut he felt moderately certain it 
would succeed. 

He worked out his new scheme as well as he 
could lying there sore and maimed and useless. It 
would require care and time and boldness. Success 
up to a certain point he regarded as almost certain, 
hut at the critical moment it might be that failure 
would confront him. In that case all would not he 
lost, though the chances against him would be 
greatly increased. 

ISText morning, to Catmur’s astonishment and 
relief, the wounded man said to him : 

“ I was wakeful during the night, and I thought 
the whole affair and our hopes for the future over 
very carefully. You were kind enough to say Miss 
Starr might visit me and nurse me until I am well. 
Kow, I don’t think that would be wise at all.” 

« Eh ? ” said Catmur, at this voluntary anticipation 
of his own determination. 

“ You see, I am most anxious to create a favour- 
able impression on Miss Starr.” 


182 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


“ Well, that’s only natural, as you hope to marry 
her,” said Catmur with some uneasiness. 

“ And we cannot hope that I would create a 
favourable impression hurt and stricken down as I 
am now. It would, of course, he different if Miss 
Starr had known me before the accident.” 

“ There’s a good deal in what you say,” muttered 
Catmur thoughtfully, “'and perhaps it wjll be as 
well if Ellen sits with you as she did yesterday. 
You see the show takes up a good deal of Millie’s 
time, and her performance might be queered if she 
was tired or thinking of other things. No doubt 
she has a firm hold of the code we use for the 
second-sight, but it might slip from her at any 
moment if she ran low in health. You’d like Ellen 
to sit with you, and Susan will always be within 
call ; and if Susan only runs over to the Caves, 
why, one of us could be with you in a jiffy.” 

“ It is very kind of you to think of all this, and I 
fancy what you say will be best.” 

“ I hope so,” said Catmur with a strong mental 
reservation. He could not believe Luxmore’s motive 
was really in his words, and he could not invent or 
light upon any other reasonable motive. 

“ And now, Catmur, I want to thank Jeff Monday, 
if I may. I know he shot your tiger, but he saved 
my hfe.” 


CATMURS CAVE. 


183 


“ Of course — of course,” said Catmur hastily. It 
never occurred to him before that anyone could be 
grateful for the preservation of Luxmore’s life ; and 
now that he saw the reasonableness of Luxmore 
himself feeling some gratitude, it occurred to him 
it must be very suspicious that up to this moment 
he had not recognised the fact that Luxmore ought 
to feel gratitude. 

“ Of course,” said Catmur, “ the minute Jeff comes 
over from the show (he spends an hour or two here 
every day) I’ll bring him up to you.” 

The showman was troubled in his mind as he 
went downstairs. It fell in with his own intention 
that Millie should not see the secretary ; but were the 
reasons the real reasons actuating the young man ? 

He had torn off the address at the top of the 
pencil-note written by Luxmore to Greyborne and 
sent on the note. For while it was most desirable 
that Greyborne’s mind should be relieved so that no 
inquiries about his secretary might be set on foot, a 
visit from the contractor to the Flat Farm might 
be full of danger and difficulty. 

The new turn of affairs had one thing in his 
favour. It placed Mr. Hugh Luxmore, private 
secretary to Mr. John Greyborne, the enormously 
rich father of Millie, completely in his hands for 
some time — some weeks. Now if he contemplated 


184 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


taking action himself in the matter, he had such an 
opportunity as he could not have dared to hope for 
twenty-four hours before. 

There was now no hurry about Luxmore. Prompt 
action might be desirable in another quarter, but 
Luxmore might safely be left as he Avas for a few 
days, at all events. That night after the show he 
would read over the declaration made by his dead 
wife. He had no doubt m his mind as to the terms 
of that affidavit, or whatever they called it, but it 
would be just as well for him to refresh his memory 
about it. Then to-morrow or next day he could 
carefully consider the desirability of his calling 
upon Mr. Greyborne at Lancaster Gate. 

Jeff Monday came earlier than usual that morn- 
ing. His occupation was gone, and time hung 
heavily on his hands. He who had meant no harm 
to anyone, who had no scheme or plot, had spent 
the most sleepless night of the tliree. He had never 
closed an eye at all. Usually he slept in a truckle 
bed made up in the pedestal of Rameses in the Cave 
of Sculptures, close to the door leadmg into the 
menagerie. 

That miserable Thursday night he had not tried 
to sleep, he had not gone near Rameses. Had sat 
by the side of his old friend Ben in the cage of the 
tiger, with his back against the bars and his hand on 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


185 


the battered, seared, misshapen head, the crown of 
which had been carried away by the bullet fired by 
him. 

Catmur had said, with a view to conciliating Jeff, 
“ I will get him stuffed and then you can have him 
in the show always.” 

“ I will bury him to-morrow,” said Jeff. “ Stuffed ! 
Do you think I am going to make a raree-show of 
him, of my friend ? Do you think I am going to 
have him dead for hogs to tear and pluck? How 
could I live if I could see him every day and know 
him and he could never see or know me ? ” 

“ But, Jeff, by and by it would be a good Ime in 
the bills. ‘ The stuffed tiger Bengal that killed one 
keeper abroad and was in the act of killing another 
man when shot in the menagerie by Jeff Monday, 
the lion-tamer.’ We can’t afford to lose a line like 
that in the bills, Jeff.” 

“ The tiger shall be buried to-morrow as he now 
lies. I’d bury him to-day, only — only I can’t bear 
to part with him for ever just yet. We were such 
good pals.” 

“ You will bury him as he is ! You / I gave three 
hundred and fifty pounds for him, and the skin 
anyway is mine.” 

For an instant Jeff stared with those incompre- 
hensible eyes out of his inscrutable face at the show- 


186 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


man, and then said slowly, “ Do you mean that the 
skin of the tiger is yours or mine, or that your skin 
is your own or the hangman’s ? Which, Bart Cat- 
mur ? Because I have no time for looking into your 
meanings,” and without waiting for an answer Jeff 
Monday strode away. 

So Jeff sat the whole of that night in the dark in 
the cage of the tiger, now with his hand on the dead 
tiger’s head, now smoking motionlessly, now strok- 
ing the fur of the neck, now stooping down and 
laying his cheek against the jaw of his friend. It 
was a vigil of expiation and farewell. 

When he came to the house in the morning Cat- 
mur told him Luxmore wished to see him and thank 
him. 

“ Kot to-day,” said Jeff quietly. “ Not to-day — 
another time — to-morrow. I have been with the 
tiger all the night.” 

“ All the night ! ” cried Millie. “ What doing? ” 

“ I was trying to persuade myself I shot him, and 
I can’t. I told him a thousand times over I shot 
him. But it wouldn’t do. He seemed to be sorry 
he was dead, and could not rub himself against me 
to show me he did not mind.” 

“ Jeff,” said the girl, “ come with me for a little 
walk ; it will do you good. I am going to post a 
letter for Mr. Luxmore.” 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


187 


He turned submissively and walked beside the 
beautiful young creature with eyes staring at the 
horizon, at the dead tiger, at the jungle where the 
tiger had first seen light, at anything but what was 
near. 

“ He was a great deal to you, Jeff ! ” said the girl, 
looking at him with tearful sympathy. 

“ He was wife and child and home to me. Miss 
Millie. I have no one now. It is not having no 
one that hurts. Miss Millie, but having lost him. I 
have always lived alone, and I never loved but him, 
and he loved me, and I must kill him.” 

The girl burst into tears. 

“ I did not know. Miss Millie, you loved him well 
enough to cry for him,” said Jeff, drawing up in 
amazement and looking at the girl for the first 
time. 

“ Oh, Jeff,” she cried, “ I am sorry.” 

He looked at her with that smile of wonderful 
sweetness that had no selfish greed in it. He was 
smiling at one who loved his tiger unknown to him. 
She must be good. 

“ I did not knoAV, Miss Millie, that you loved him 
so well as to cry for him,” he said softly, taking her 
hand. He wished to thank her because she cared 
for the unhandsome beast he loved. 

“ I am not crying for him,” she said. 


188 


CATMUIVS CAVE. 


“Not crying for him?” he said in surprise, 
“ What are you crying for ? ” 

“ For you.” 

He dropped her hand and started away from her 
and exclaimed, astonished, “ Crying for me! You 
must not cry for me. Why should you cry for me ? ” 

“ I would give my life,” said she. “ Oh, Jelf, I 
would give my life that you had your tiger hack 
again.” 

He stood looking at her in speechless amazement. 

“ Why ? ” he asked at length. 

“ Because the love you gave the tiger was the life 
of your life, and giving it was all you craved.” 

He was silent again for a while. Then he said : 

“ Giving and seeing him take was all I craved. 
But you would give and close your eyes before you 
saw me take.” 

“ Oh, yes, yes, yes. For I should be sure you 
would be happy.” 

“No man,” he said, “ could love like that.” 

“ I don’t know, Jeff. I am only a woman.” 

“ Ay,” he said, “ you are only a woman. Do all 
women feel like that ? ” 

“ I don’t know, Jeff. I am only one.” 

“ Ay, you are only one. I thought women liked 
to see their gifts received and acknowledged with 
handsome smiles.” 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


189 


“ Perhaps they do. I speak for only one.” 

“ Miss Millie, our talk made you cry. Would it 
please you to know it has taken my mind for a 
while off my loss ? ” 

“ Oh, I should be delighted, Jeff — delighted more 
than I could say in words.” 

“ Then you may delight yourself. You have 
given me more subject for thought than all the 
world has given me up to this hour.” 

With a sob of delight the girl caught his hand. 
“ I cannot believe it, Jeff. The pleasure and the 
honour are too great.” 

“ Honour ! ” he said. “ Honour ! That word is 
right.” 


190 


CATMUKS CAVE, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

JEFF AND MILLIE. 

Jeff Monday had no notion of how he got through 
the two performances of the day before. He had 
no memory at all of how the leopards or the lion 
had behaved. Fortunately for him, from beginning 
to end he had to utter no words, save the few of 
invitation or encouragement to the beasts. 

From the time he fired the fatal shot up to the 
time of his taking that walk with Millie — the first 
he had ever taken with her or any other woman — 
his mind was a blank, except the lonely watch by 
the body of the dead beast. He could remember 
nothing of what had occurred, and he was grateful 
that he could not remember. 

But that walk with Millie seemed to have done 
him good. In it he felt he emerged from a region 
of smoke and mist. Up to that material things 
round him had worn an unreal aspect. There was 
no fog in the air to-day, and he thought to himself 


CATMUE^S CAVE. 


191 


that the walk and relief from the atmosphere of the 
show would account for the beneficial change in 
himself. 

When he got hack to the show it was time to 
dress for the afternoon performance. JVIillie’s walk 
had not occupied quarter of an hour. But he did 
not go back to the Farm with her, he kept aloof 
from the Caves, wandering hither and thither 
through networks of mean, uninteresting streets, 
whose names he could not tell, of whose existence 
he had no knowledge until that day. 

There was no hurry back. He was not uneasy 
about the dead tiger. He knew the side shutter- 
fiap of the cage had not been let down, and that the 
door of the cage would not be opened in his absence, 
and that no one would disturb the body of the dead 
beast. 

Catmur was obliged to be in the Caves from the 
opening of the doors. His own performance did 
not begin till forty minutes after the doors in Rail- 
way Avenue were open, and Millie’s not till half an 
hour before the doors closed, for hers came last of 
all, and she took no share in any part of the enter- 
tainment but the second-sight and magic. 

When Jeff at last reached the back door Millie 
had already arrived and was in the Cave of Magic 
and Monsters, and Catmur’s lecture and sale of 


192 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


busts were drawing to a close in the Cave of 
Sculptures. 

As the swarthy lion-tamer hastened through the 
Cave of Monsters to dress in the menagerie beyond, 
he paused a moment in passing Millie and said : 

“ As you promised, the air has done me good. I 
feel a new man. I am twice the man T was this 
morning.” 

“ Oh, thank you, thank you, Jeff,” she said ; “ I am 
glad. It is good of you to tell me.” 

The Freaks could not believe their eyes. They 
looked from one to another as though a miracle had 
been wrought. Jeff Monday had never once before 
in passing through addressed a word to any member 
of that section. As a rule he was in the Cave of 
Beasts before the show opened. On the few occa- 
sions when he did go in through the Human Freaks 
he passed in silence, merely nodding to the Monsters 
as he went. 

“I declare,” said the Fat Woman, shaking out the 
vast amplitudes of her blue silk dress, “ there’s Jeff 
Monday taking notice of one of us ! Just as he was 
a lord or the two-headed nightingale come to be 
one of ws.” 

“^^■ow that the tiger is dead,” said the Human 
Shadow, a man so thin that he was fabled to 
cast no shadow, in an enormously bass voice, “ he 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


193 


is trying to scrape an acquaintance with us lions.” 

The Umbrella-haired Man, whose long black 
locks hung down over his shoulders like a half-closed 
parasol, suddenly extended his hair until it stood 
out at right angles to his head. He made no other 
comment. That was his way of expressing extreme 
emotion ; and although the phenomenon was known 
to be due to whalebone and a string, it was felt 
that he had spoken out handsomely. The giant 
shrugged his shoulders, which, considering his size, 
was a very considerable contribution to the con- 
versation. 

Millie was out of hearing and sight of all this. 
She was standing by the open door, looking pen- 
sively out upon the dreary waste of Clayton Flat. 

The girl was in a dreamy reverie. Up to that day 
her sympathies had never been strongly moved, 
beyond the feeling of grateful obligation to Bar- 
tholomew Catmur, and of absorbing, passionate devo- 
tion to the gentle, harmless, mindless woman whom 
from her earliest memory she had looked upon as 
her mother. 

The death of the tiger was the first big sorrow 
that had come into her life, and the grief of Jeff 
Monday over the beast, his only friend, was the first 
tragedy she had witnessed. 

In her solitude and isolation she had that feeling 

13 


194 


CATMUE^S CAVE. 


common in lonely youth, that all things would 
always he the same save for the stealthy stealing of 
death upon the loved on6s. She had seen the extra- 
ordinary, the overwhelming love of the lion-tamer 
for the beast and of the beast for him, and she had 
never tired of watching it and marvelling over it. 
She had read in books of something of the kind, but 
nothing so complete and astounding as the friend- 
ship, the strange partnership in love of these two. 
The tiger was ferocious to all except Jeff, and Jeff 
was cold to all except the tiger. She did not share 
Jeff’s conviction that one day Ben would turn on 
him and rend him. 

What was all mankind to Jeff, that he should kill 
the tigei to save one man’s life ? Her uncle had 
been guilty of great carelessness in shutting the 
young man into the menagerie without looking to 
see that everything was secure. But if two days 
ago anyone had asked her, “Would Jeff Monday 
kill the beast to save the man ? ” she should emphat- 
ically say, “ No ; Jeff would not kill Ben to save 
any man — to save himself. He would die rather 
than kill the beast, and he has always spoken with 
calm resignation of the tiger killing himself.” 

The man who had so loved, and who could, in 
obedience to a higher mandate than the promptings 
of his heart, slay the one creature on whom all his 


CATMVWS CAVE. 


195 


heart was centred, had in him reserves of heroic 
self-denial and self-sacrifice past the comprehension 
of woman — past, at all events, her own comprehen- 
sion. She had told him she could not comprehend 
his act, because she was only a woman, and he had 
accepted her excuse as an explanation. But all 
men were not, could not be like Jeff. There was in 
this man a oneness, a simplicity, a nobihty of un- 
selfishness incomprehensible to her, a lofty scorn 
of rewards, and a sacred love for mere love’s sake 
that made the demigods of war and of philandering 
chivalry seem in comparison poor clay-made images 
with wooden heads. 

It was true her own experience of life and men 
did not qualify her to estimate life or men» From 
her earliest memory she had been kept apart more 
like the heroine of an Eastern romance than a 
simple maiden of prosaic England. She had never 
been sent to school. She had had governesses to 
teach her all she learned. From what she had read 
in books she knew her education was far better than 
other girls in her position enjoyed. But she had 
never associated with other girls. She had been 
cloistered all her life. She had never had a draw- 
ing master, or a dancing master, or a music master. 
She had met no man half a dozen times, except her 
micle and Jeff. But Jeff had been so silent and un- 


196 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


obtrusive, that, although in the house every day for 
a year, she seemed to know him less than the man 
who brought food to the Farm. 

For a long time Jeff had seemed to her one of an 
order of beings different from herself. She knew 
her uncle’s great aim, his consuming desire was to 
get money — money for what she could not under- 
stand. To her it seemed her uncle had more than 
he wanted; he certainly had more than he made 
use of. But Jeff did not care for money. She had 
read of men whose whole heart was in their work. 
But Jeff’s whole heart was not in his business as a 
lion-tamer, but in that one hideous and ferocious 
beast. He displayed no great wish to excel with 
the leopards or the lion. Indeed, he showed no wish 
to excel with the tiger either. He went through his 
performances with the leopards and the lion in a 
workman-like manner, like one fairly trying to do 
his best, but showing no enthusiasm. 

Jeff, when first he entered the employment of her 
uncle, had been asked to the Farm in honour of his 
appointment as lion-tamer to the show. Her uncle 
told her he had heard much about Jeff, and that the 
new hand never for an hour even went away of his 
own free will from the menagerie in which he had 
been associated with Ben. This devotion, or indo- 
lence, or whatever it was, could not be good for Jeff, 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


197 


SO, partly out of kindness, and partly out of a wish 
to keep the most valuable member of his troupe in 
good health, Catmur found excuses for asking the 
swarthy, taciturn man, who did not care for money, 
to come to the Farm every day. 

The only thing or person that Jeff showed any 
interest in in her uncle’s household was her gentle, 
imbecile mother. He had a method of deferential 
chivalry towards the afflicted woman that further 
impressed Millie with the feeling of his being differ- 
ent in kind from those around her. He always 
treated her mother as if her intellect were unim- 
paired, but as though she suffered from some trifling 
and transitory physical disablement. He had sug- 
gested the notion of getting the Bath chair for the 
imbecile woman, and he had volunteered to take her 
about in it on the Flat. His influence over the tiger 
was a marvellous triumph of unrequiring love over 
a savage nature ; his devotion to the imbecile woman 
a pathetic homily. He seemed to give to the tiger 
for his own personal love of giving, and to give to 
the afflicted woman out of obedience to an instinc- 
tive obedience to an ordinance of Heaven. 

That Friday afternoon, as Millie looked out on the 
dreary Clayton Flat through the open door at the 
back of Catmur’s Caves, she went over in her mind 
all she had ever seen of Jeff, and her eyes filled 


198 


CATMUIt^S CAVE. 


with tears for which she could not account — ^tears, 
it may be, of gratitude for having been admitted into 
this holy of holies of unselfish love. 

When the show was over and she was going home 
alone across the dreary Flat, he came behind her 
and said, “ You told me to-day you would give your 
life if I might have the tiger back.” 

“ I did. It is true,” she said, looking around on 
him with a face of pain in sympathy with his 
pain. 

He was smiling, the wonderful unselfish smile 
that now and then made his swarthy face shine 
with the brightness of the spirit. 

“ In the gipsy tents where I was reared they told 
me that because of my plain looks no woman would 
ever give me her love ; and yet you said this morn- 
ing you would give me your life. I know that a 
woman would often rather give her life than her 
love. But since you spoke to-day about giving your 
life for me, I have been asking. Were the gipsies 
wrong ? If I had good looks I could not give them 
to you. They would be always mine. But I could 
give you all my love if you would take it. I would 
like to give you all my love ; I see by the tears in 
your eyes that you could understand it. Will you 
take it ? ” 

“Yes, Jeff” 


CAT3IURS CAVE. 


199 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE FLIGHT OF THE LAIVIE DUCKS. 

To the letter which Millie had posted that morning 
for Hugh Luxmore attached a great deal of import- 
ance. The pencil note, written by him the day be- 
fore, had brought no response last night or this, 
morning. The secretary knew Mr. John Grey- 
borne was not an emotional man, or, rather, he 
was not a man given to displaying emotions. But 
Luxmore believed the absence of display of feeling 
in Mr. Greyborne’s daily hfe was to be accounted 
for more by an instinctive avoidance of situations 
and circumstances calculated to rouse feeling than 
inherent apathy. 

At all events, Luxmore was quite certaui the 
contractor was not unkind or callous, and he could 
not believe the old man had got his pencil note, and 
tossed it carelessly on one side, as deserving no 
attention, or a thing to receive attention in some 
odd hour of leisure a day or a week hence. Xo, if 
Mr. Greyborne had got that note, a message of 


200 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


some kind would certainly have come the evening 
it was sent, or at latest the mornmg after. 

Clearly Catmur, to whom in that hour of con- 
fusion and pain he had entrusted the posting of the 
note, had intercepted it. Indeed, now when he 
thought of the matter in the morning, he wondered 
how even in his dazed and shattered condition he 
had been so simple as to confide his letter to Bart 
Catmur. 

The scheme which had been shaping in his head 
all night had now taken definite form. The writing 
materials of the evening before lay on the table at 
his bedside. As soon as Catmur left the room he 
wrote a long letter, put it in an envelope and 
directed it to Louis Bertram, 14 Palgrave Street, 
Charing Cross. When Dr. Frazer paid his morning 
visit, Luxmore asked him to post the letter for him. 

“ It is a letter of some consequence,” he said to 
the doctor when there was no one in the room but 
Mrs. Starr. “ It is private, and if you will take the 
trouble to drop it into the post with your own hand, 
I should feel very much obliged.” 

The doctor promised. He had found his patient 
going on well, and said nothing could be better than 
the progress in the case. 

After the doctor’s visit the patient did not seem 
quite so calm. During the absence of Catmur at 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


201 


the midday performance he tried to occupy himself 
reading a newspaper, but failed. He began several 
conversations with Mrs. Starr, but found nothing 
but smiling acquiescence could be got from her. 
Any reference to the accident of seventeen years 
ago reminded her of the weakness in her child’s 
foot, and led to a repetition in changeless form of 
the former assertion, that if you put the child 
standing by a chair you would at once see the ankle 
turned in. 

When Catmur and Millie had gone to the Caves 
for the evening performance Luxmore’s excitement 
increased. He asked Mrs. Starr to tell Susan he 
wanted her most particularly. 

“ I don’t feel well at all,” he said to the stolid 
maid-servant. “ I am certainly going to have fever. 
The doctor told me if I got a pain in my head, and 
felt a burning thirst, I was at once to send for this.” 
He held out a piece of paper. “You are to take a 
cab. Dr. Frazer said, and drive to this address. The 
bottle you are to bring will be waiting for you, and 
I know, Susan, you are too good-natured to delay 
either going or coming back. Until you do come 
back I shall be in the greatest agony. Dr. Frazer 
said that this was the only thing that could do me 
any good, and it can be got at only one place in 
London.” 


202 


CATMIJWS CAVE. 


The words on the paper he gave the girl were : 
“ Please give hearer a bottle of the soothing mix- 
ture.” The order was addressed to Louis Bertram, 
14 Palgrave Street, Charing Cross. 

Susan hesitated. “ I have orders,” she said, “ not 
to leave the house while master is away.” 

“ When did Mr. Catmur give you those orders ? 
To-day?” 

“No. Not to-day. Them are my orders al- 
ways.” 

“ They don’t apply now. Pll take care of Mrs. 
Starr,” said he, confident that Susan was too stupid 
to see the absurdity of him in his present condition 
offering to take care of anyone. “ Of course, when 
Mr. Catmur gave them, they were meant to prevent 
Mrs. Starr being left alone in the house. Besides, I 
have no one else to send, and if you don’t go and 
come back in less than an hour I shall in all likeli- 
hood be a dead man, and the loss of the tiger will be 
in vain. For the love of heaven, Susan, don’t stand 
there and see an unfortunate young fellow die before 
your eyes, for want of going a message left by the 
doctor to save his life ! ” 

This appeal was too much for Susan. The expe- 
dition had not, of course, the direct sanction of Cat- 
mur, neither had he barred it explicitly. It was 
inconceivable to her that the master would have 


C ATM UK'S CAVE. 


208 


been reconciled to the loss of the tiger which cost 
hundreds and hundreds of pounds, and grudge her 
going a mile or two in a cab to fetch medicine for 
this man who was in danger of death if the remedy 
were not procured. In fact, for the first time while 
Susan was in Catmur’s employment, she ventured to 
think for herself, with the result that her master 
would have given the price of ten tigers to obviate 
or undo. 

At the show that evening nothing of interest out- 
side the business of the performance occurred. 
Millie did not say anything to Catmur about what 
had passed between herself and the lion-tamer that 
eventful day. Indeed, it did not enter her mind 
there was anything to tell. Catmur had never 
treated her exactly with affection or exactly with 
respect, but with a combination of both, modified by 
his constitutional reserve. He had never assumed 
authority over her : he guided and directed rather 
than governed her. She was always submissive 
and obedient to him, because he was always reason- 
able to her. At times he was harsh, abrupt, per- 
emptory to her mother, but never to herself. She 
excused the abruptness of his maimer to her mother 
by refiecting that the unhappy state of her mother’s 
mind had in years developed in her much the habit 
of command. 


204 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


Millie Starr knew nothing at all of the world. 
Except what she had read in hooks and heard 
from the governesses, she had no means of knowing 
anything of the world. To her, the world of to-day, 
which she had to take wholly on report, had no 
more present real existence than the world of Eng- 
land under the heptarchy. 

Of course, speaking to her mother was completely 
out of the question. Her mother’s mind was not 
stronger or more useful than that of a child of a 
year old. Indeed, in Millie’s fanciful moments it 
had often seemed to her that at the time of that acci- 
dent years ago, when Mr. Greyborne’s cliild was 
killed, the intellect of the child had by some strange 
transmigration taken possession of the braui of the 
woman. 

But she felt no necessity to speak to anyone at 
all. She was quite satisfied. She felt a content- 
ment which had never been hers before. She 
had always felt alone and isolated. She had often 
felt that life was only a procession of phantoms. 
Now things had become more settled and real — ^had 
become quite settled and real. She had evidently 
been promoted out of chaos into order. She felt not 
only justified, but she felt that she should now be 
of use in life. 

That lonely man had lived apart from love be- 


CATMURS CAVE. 


205 


cause he thought his face would keep woman’s love 
away from him. Now that lonely man need have 
no such thought longer. He could have all her love 
and devotion. She had found a most precious use 
for herself. It was to be sweet to him, so that his 
spirit might have peace. 

That evening, as she and Catmur were going home 
from the show, he said to her, “ Millie, let us take a 
turn this way. There is something very important 
I wish to say to you.” 

“About Jeff?” she said incredulously, for she 
could not believe that the lion-tamer had spoken to 
him about what had passed that day. 

“ No, not about Jeff. About yourself.” 

“ About myself ! ” she said in surprise, “ some- 
thing serious about myself ! ” 

“It is nothing unpleasant. It is nothing that 
you might not be proud to hear. It is something 
that ought to please you very much. One of those 
days you will be enormously rich.” 

She laughed. “ Is my clairvoyance so very won- 
derful, uncle ? Well, if it is, and I make a great 
deal of money by it, I shall know who taught me,” 
she added more gravely. 

“ Yes, I taught you. But now it seems to me 
one of those days you may bitterly regret that I 
ever taught you, and you may learn to loathe the 


206 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


name of Catmur for ever having allowed you inside 
the doors of the Caves.” 

“Uncle! uncle! What are you saying? You 
are not serious ? You cannot wish that I should 
seriously deny the possibility of my forgetting all 
your goodness to my mother and myself.” 

“ No, Millie, I don’t for a moment think you could 
be ungrateful. Indeed I do not, my child. I do not 
mean that, clever though your second- sight and 
code performance is, that you could ever make a 
fortune in that way. But great riches coming sud- 
denly often make people wish to forget the days they 
spent in comparative poverty and the people with 
whom their poor days were passed.” 

“ But, uncle, when you say this you are not 
thinking of me ? ” said the girl in wonder. 

“ I am.” 

“ But how could I forget my mother and you, 
uncle, who have been so good — so wonderfully good 
to the mindless widow Avithout a penny and the 
helpless child ? Oh, uncle, uncle, I cannot — I will 
not believe you are thinking of me when you say 
such thmgs. Indeed, indeed, when you say such 
things with me in your mind you are thinking a 
most unnecessary, a most painfully unnecessary, a 
most horribly painful thing.” 

“ Millie, you must not fancy for one moment I 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


207 


' am saying what is not necessary. I have lately 
made discoveries which tell me as plain as my words 
can tell you that the day will come when you will 
wish you never crossed the threshold of Catmur’s 
Caves, or the threshold of Catmur’s house. 

“ Uncle, I will not listen to you if you say such 
things. You have never until now said an imkind 
thing to me in all your life, and now you are saying 
so cruel a thing to me that it would break my heart 
if I minded what you say.” 

“ Millie, I would put down my life on your word, 
I know, my dear child, you do not know what a 
falsehood is. I know you would die before you 
would break any promise you made. Will you give 
me your promise to-night that you will always 
believe I have done the best I could for you ? ” 

“ For me ; and, what is more to me, for my poor 
mother.” 

“ I have done my duty, I hope, by Ellen, but I 
want you now not only to promise but to swear you 
will never cease to believe I did my very best for 
you.” 

“ If you wish it I swear it.” 

“ Well, Millie, you may take my word for it, one 
day you will be enormously rich. If when you are 
enormously rich I show you one way in which you 
can repay me, will you do it ? ” 


208 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


“ I swear, uncle, I will repay you in that one way.” 
“ Don’t say, ‘ I swear, uncle.’ Say, ‘ I swear, 
Bartholomew Catmur.’ What cry was that? A 
cry from the Farm ? ” 

“ It is like Susan’s voice.” 

“ Well, do you swear ? ” 

“ I swear, Bartholomew Catmur, to repay you in 
the way you point out.” 

“ There is the cry again. Why, here’s Susan dart- 
ing across the Flat. What is the matter, Susan ? ” 
“ Oh, master, the strange young gentleman and 
Mrs. Starr are not at the house.” 

“ Not at the house ! ” 

“ They are both gone ! ” 


CATMURS CAVE. 


209 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE DESERTED HOUSE. 

The astounding information conveyed in the wild 
words of the stupid maid Susan suddenly put a stop 
to anything further Catmur had intended to say to 
Millie about the past or future. 

He had found great difficulty in arranging in his 
mind what he should tell Millie. It was necessary 
for him to tell her something, but how much ? If 
he told her all at once it would be incredible and 
overwhelming. The girl would not be able to realise 
the meaning or importance of his revelation. He 
was not sure the girl would be able to grasp the fact 
that Ellen Starr was not her mother, and he felt per- 
fectly sure that Millie would receive the news with 
the utmost consternation and grief. 

With regard to his design of making Millie his 
wife, it seemed more difficult to be carried out now 

that the moment for action had arrived than when 
14 


210 


CATMUKS CAVE. 


he was merely contemplating it in an off-hand way in 
the future. The girl had looked on him all her life 
as her uncle. Time would he necessary before he 
could approach her as a suitor. Of course, he was 
not going to make a fool of himself and pose as the 
enamoured swain. That would be ridiculous. It 
would be necessary for him to approach gradually, 
lie would pretend he had only recently discovered 
she was John Greyborne’s daughter, and then he 
would appeal to her gratitude and ask her to marry 
him, as the only way in which she could share her 
wealth with him and impose upon him no sense 
of humiliating obligation. He must speak to her at 
once in this sense. He must approach the matter 
before that young jackanapes, that young dandy 
Luxmore, had a chance of saying a word to her. 
Up to this the girl had never spent an hour with 
any young man — ^with any man at all who could have 
put notions of love or marriage or anything of the 
kind into her head. He must make sure of being 
first with Millie before Luxmore got about or could 
meet the girl. Thus far he had sedulously kept 
her secluded from any man who might in the re- 
motest way interfere with his own wish to make her 
his wife when time was ripe for the revelation to 
her of the secret of her birth. 

He now stood in no great fear of Luxmore on ac- 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


211 


count of the tiger episode. Luxmore himself had 
given to Dr. Frazer an account of the affair, and Dr. 
Frazer’s evidence could he produced in support of 
his own version of the affair. If Luxmore now tried 
to tell his version, as near to the true version as he 
could know or guess, just short of the true version, 
there would he his own account of the affair, the 
doctor’s account of Luxmore’s own first account and 
Jeff’s accomit. Jeff said he killed the tiger to save 
his neck from the rope. Up to the firing of that 
shot he believed Jeff would have killed himself rather 
than the tiger. 'Now that Jeff had shown how much 
he would do to save his master’s life, it was obvious 
he would back up his master’s story if the law men- 
aced his master’s liberty. 

He had therefore made up his mind to reveal mat- 
ters gradually to Millie, beginning that very evening 
with the annomicement that she would one day come 
in to great riches, and getting her to promise blindly 
and most solemnly that she would repay him in the 
only way that would be worthy of the obligation 
conferred on her. That this way was her accept- 
ance of him as a husband need not be revealed to 
her until later. 

And now into the middle of his scheme, which had 
since the failure of the arrangement in the menagerie 
been going on fairly well, had plunged the stupid 


212 


CATMUR'^S CAVE. 


maid Susan with her incredible story that the im- 
becile woman, who was incapable of suggesting to 
herself that she should go from one room to another 
in search of food when she wanted it, and this 
young man, whose thigh was broken, and who could 
not expect to put the leg under him for months, had 
fled the lonely house ! 

Catmur seized Susan by the arm and said flercely, 
‘ The young man and my sister gone ! Tell me, 
girl, in a word what you mean ! ” He tightened his 
hold on her arm until the girl winced. 

“ Mr. Luxmore, the young man, said the doctor 
told him if he got a pain in his head only one medi- 
cine could save his life. He told me it could only 
be got at Charing Cross. I took a cab there. When 
I came back they were gone — ^the two.” 

With an oath Catmur led the way across the Flat 
to the Farm. 

When they entered the house Catmur dashed 
through it from end to end, from top to bottom, 
frantic with rage. The house was not a large one, 
but it was full of nooks and crannies, and it had 
large, rambling cellars. Hot a square foot of it did 
Catmur leave unexplored. He found plenty of traces 
of the fugitives, but not the thinnest clue. 

During the search Millie and Susan sat terrified in 
the parlour on the left hand of the hall. The rage 


CATMURS CAVE. 


213 


of the man, his glaring eyes, his white face, his 
clenched teeth, his stertorous breathing, his un- 
worded ferocity, froze the women with a new dread. 
They had never seen this man, they had never 
seen any man, in such a blind and ravening rage 
before. 

There was no gas in the house. It was lighted 
by oil lamps in the passages and sitting-rooms. 
Candles were used for moving about. Catmur 
seized a candle, tore it out of the candlestick and 
held it in his naked hand. It sweated and guttered 
over his black frock-coat and black cloth waistcoat 
and trousers. His warm hand softened the grease 
of the candle, and the fierce pressure of his fingers 
pressed the grease through his fingers until his 
hand looked a shapeless mass of purple flesh and 
pallid grease like raw meat in a butcher’s. The 
cellars were low, and against a beam in one of them 
he had cut his head just under the hair in front, and 
the blood from the cut flowed down his forehead 
and nose and trickled over his lipless mouth and 
chin. He was a ghastly, hideous sight to the two 
terrified girls sitting, expecting they knew not what, 
in the murky lamplight of the dingy old parlour. 

At last he staggered into the parlour exhausted, 
beaten, blowing and snorting like a savage animal 
wounded to death. 


214 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


He flung himself on a chair, and opening the hand 
clasping the candle, put the candle under his foot 
and pulled his hand away from it and left the grease 
sticking to his hand. 

He was a hideous sight, and the two women stared 
at him in speechless terror. 

“ You have no notion,” said he at length, “ of 
where they’re gone or of whether they went away 
together ? ” 

“ No, master. When I came hack I saw what 
you see now ; no more, no less.” 

Millie was paralysed with fears. First, what 
could have induced this poor helpless, mindless 
mother of hers to go away ? She had not been so 
much induced to go away as taken away, for the 
afflicted woman would have obeyed a child often as 
readily as she obeyed her daughter or brother. 
What could account for her uncle’s extraordinary, 
unexampled excitement ? She had never seen him 
in such a condition before. She had never seen any- 
one at all so distracted. Could the strange things 
her uncle had been saying to her just as Susan 
came up have anything to do with the awful manifes- 
tation? If her mother had disappeared thus at 
dead of night under ordinary circumstances, she 
would have felt distracted with apprehension. But 
with this man Luxmore gone too, a man who was 


CATMUIl''S CAVE. 215 

supposed not to be able to leave his bed for weeks 
— gone also, and apparently with her, and with this 
man tearing through the house like a maniac. She 
felt bereft of ordinary powers and quite helpless, 
like one looking at a spectacle, while held motion- 
less oy the spell of some narcotic drug. 

“ How long were you away ? ” he asked harshly. 

“ An hour or over. The man I went to said the 
medicine would take time to make, but I must wait, 
as if the young man did not get it at once he would 
die.” 

“ Hah!” 

“ And I thought you were so anxious to get the 
young man well you would like me to stay.” 

“Hah!” again grunted Catmur savagely. “You 
have that address ? ” 

“Yes.” She timidly held out the paper Luxmore 
had given her towards him. He snatched it from 
her, and without waitmg to get a hat he dashed out of 
the house, saying, “Wait up till I come back. I’ll 
send Jeff to look after you.” 

As he spoke he was gone. 

The night was clear and bright. He ran across 
the open waste between the Farm and the back 
entrance to the Caves. He found Jeff Monday 
smoking by the open door. In a few hurried words 
he told the lion-tamer what had occurred, and asked 


216 


CATMUR'^S CAVE. 


him to go over to the house and stay there till 
he came hack. He did not explain anything. He 
merely said the two had disappeared, and he was off 
to an address which he had found with Susan, who 
was sittmg up with Millie. 

Jeff started at once for the Farm, and Catmur 
went through the Caves out to Railway Avenue. 
He jumped into a hansom and drove to Palgrave 
Street. Number 14 was a private house. They 
were nearly all private houses in the street. He 
knocked half a dozen times without getting any 
reply. 

At length a head was put out of an upper 
window. 

r 

“ What is it ? What do you mean by kicking up 
such a row at such a time ? Who are you ? What 
do you want ? ” 

“ My name is Catmur.” 

“ A bad name. A name I don’t like at all.” 

u Why?” 

“ Oh, because it has a bad sound. It isn’t a bit 
euphonious and is no excuse in the world for you 
kicking up such a row, you know. What do- you 
want ? ” 

“ Is Mr. Luxmore here ? ” 

“No.” 


“ Is Mrs. Starr here ? ” 


CATMUE'S CAVE. 217 

“No. This is not an hotel or a homn for in- 
ebriates.” 

“ Do you know Mr. Luxmore ? ” 

“ Will you go away ? I am leaving the window, 
hut only for a moment. I am going for the water 
jug. . . Now I have the water jug. If you don’t go 
away to lock up your tiger, Mr. Catmur, before I 
count three, I shall just empty the water jug on 
your head, and then blow my whistle for the police. 
One — two — three — there goes the water. I gave 
you fair warning. Go home and lock up your tiger. 
I’ll give you while I count three to clear out. Then 
I blow my whistle. Now. One — two — Oh, you’re 
off! Very well. Don’t come here again. I don’t 
like your name and I don’t like your ways.” 

He had kept the cab. He told the driver to take 
him back to Clayton Junction. 

Catmur durst not go to Lancaster Gate at such 
an hour, and besides he felt certain Luxmore was 
not there. He had, of course, he knew, no more 
right to follow Luxmore than any man passing him 
by in the street, but he fancied he had some right 
to look after his unfortunate sister. 

All at once his fury left him. 

Why should he suppose Hugh Luxmore had gone 
to a private house ? Why should he not suppose 
Hugh Luxmore had gone to a police station ? 


218 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


But if the young man had gone to a police station, 
why had he taken Ellen with him ? 

There was no satisfactory answer to he got to 
any of these questions to-night. Should he he able 
to find satisfactory answers for them to-morrow ? 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


219 


CHAPTER XXn. 

THR WHEEL OF MEMORY GOES EOITNI). 

When Catmur got back to the Farm he found 
Jeff Monday in an easy-chair smoking. Susan was 
sitting with her head against the wall asleep. Mil- 
lie, who had been seated by the table with her head 
lowered on her hands, rose when she heard Catmur’s 
foot, but had not strength to go to the door to meet 
him. “ Any news, uncle ? ” she asked in a faint 
voice. 

“ No,” he said shortly, as he flung himself on a 
chair and stared blindly at Jeff Monday without 
seeing him. 

“ Oh ! what is to be done ? — ^what is to be done, 
uncle ? Where has my poor darling gone ? ” cried 
Millie desperately. “ She will die. She will be killed 
in the streets. She is not fit to be away even for a 
minute. Oh, uncle, uncle, it can’t be that she was 
spared in that dreadful accident years ago when Mr. 
Greyborne’s child was killed, and that she is now 
to be killed in the streets when helpless and alone 


220 


CATMUW8 CAVE. 


more helpless than the baby that lost its life then ? ” 

Catmur glared at the girl and said harshly, 
“ As far as that goes she is safe. She went away 
with Luxmore.” 

“ But why ? Why should she go away ? Why 
should she go away with him ? She is nothing to him. 
She does not know him. Something must be done.” 

“ What ? ” said Catmur hoarsely. “ What can be 
done ? I have done all that can be done to-night.” 

“ But could not we go to the police ? I will go to 
the police.” 

Catmur sprang to his feet with an oath. “ You, 
madam, you ! ” he cried scornfully, as he stamped 
and smote the table with his fist. “ Who are yow, 
and what do you know, that you should interfere ? 
This is my affair and this is my house, and what I 
say must be done. If you, madam, dare to raise 
your voice ” 

“Bart Catmur,” said Jeff Monday, taking his pipe 
out of his mouth as he interrupted the foaming 
showman, and speaking very quietly, very slowly, 
“before you go any further and swear any more 
and ‘ madam ’ Millie any more, suppose I leave the 
room ” 

“ I wish you would, sir. 1 do not want anyone 
to remain in this room, in this house, who dares to 
interfere with me or suggest what I should do.” 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


221 


“Very well, Bart Catmur, since it has come to 
madaming Millie and sirring me, I will go. You 
cannot stop my going as you can Millie’s ” 

“ Will you, sir, have the goodness not to refer to 
my niece hut as Miss Starr, and will you, sir, have 
the goodness to take your sick nigger face out of 
my house ? ” The showman was now foaming and 
fuming and stamping up and down the room like 
a madman.- 

Jeif Monday put his hand on Catmur’s shoulder 
as they met in the middle of the room. “ Bart Cat- 
mur,” said Jeff, looking out of his dark, inscrutable 
eyes at the showman, “I never saw you like this 
before.” 

For the first time in Catmur’s life he felt a re- 
straining hand on his shoulder. Instantly his fury 
failed. Instantly he became calm. Instantly he rec- 
ognized that some new influence was at work, some 
new power was upon him. He looked fixedly at the 
lion-tamer, and stared as if aroused out of sleep. 

Jeff kept his strange, unseeing gaze fixed on the 
showman. “Bart Catmur, no doubt you have a 
right to order me out of your house, and no doubt 
you can prevent Millie going to the police, but you 
cannot prevent me going to the police.” 

Catmur wiped his forehead with his hand, looked 
at his wet, blood-stained palm, shuddered, drew a 


222 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


long breath, and said, with the sigh of a man whose 
eyes have been opened as he was about to step into 
an abyss: “You are right, Jeff. I lost my temper. 
But the girls had better go to bed. Nothing can be 
done to-night. I beg pardon all round for having 
lost my temper.” ♦ 

“ Yes,” said Jeff, “ you, Millie, and Susan had bet- 
ter go to bed. Nothing can be done to-night. I 
dare say we shall find your mother hi the morning, 
Millie. You need not be afraid.” 

Catmur sank on a chair, and Millie and Susan 
passed out through the door held open by Jeff 
Monday. 

The lion-tamer came back to the easy-chair in 
which he had been when Catmur entered, sat down, 
settled himself well back in the chair and lit his 
pipe. The two men were facing one. another, Cat- 
mur sitting by the table in the middle of the room, 
full in the light of the shaded lamp. The showman’s 
face was pale, with strange white streaks through 
it, as though here and there it were dead. No sound 
could now be heard in that room but the distant 
rumble of innumerable trains. 

At length Catmur spoke, staring stupidly at the 
lion- tamer in the distant gloom. “ I think, Jeff, I 
have been out of my mind for a few minutes.” 

“Most likely,” said Jeff, slowly. “You wanted 


CATMUR8 CAVE. 


223 


looking after a few minutes ago as badly as ever 
your sister did. Have you no notion of where the 
poor demented thing is gone to, of who took her 
away or why she was taken away, for, of course, go 
herself she could not ? ” 

“^To, she could not get away herself, and she 
could not want to get away herself. She could not 
get away unless someone took her away, and there 
was no one to take her away but this man Lux- 
more.” 

“ What ! a man with a broken thigh take away a 
poor mindless creature ! ” said Jeff, ceasing to smoke 
and keeping his eyes fixed on the pale, unwhole- 
some, blotchy, blood-stained, terrified face of the 
showman. 

“ That’s the only thing I can think of,” said Cat- 
mur. He felt like a hunted animal which knows 
it is pursued and that its enemies are closing in on 
all sides, does not know from what quarter to ex- 
pect attack, and feels its strength rapidly decaying, 
is in its last hiding place and conscious of powerless- 
ness to strike a blow in defence of life. 

Bart Catmur had not a friend in all the world. 
He confided in no man. In the matter of the statues 
he had of course confederates, but in no matter had 
he confidants. Jeff Monday may or may not have 
found out about the busts. He had lied to Luxmore 


224 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


when he told him Jeff used knowledge of the smug- 
gling to blackmail him. Jeff had never any occasion 
to know anything about the smuggling, and Catmur 
had never any proof that Jeff did know. 

Jeff knew what was ten thousand times worse 
than the smuggling : he knew of the attempt on 
Luxmore’s life. He knew that the tiger’s knife was 
not lifted in rehearsal of a play over the young 
man’s neck the day before yesterday. He knew the 
tiger had not got loose accidentally yesterday. He 
knew Catmur had not by mere misadventure locked 
the young man into the menagerie in which the 
beast was at large. 

Should he tell Jeff Monday all ? Jeff showed his 
good-will yesterday in killing the tiger to save him 
from committing murder. Should he trust Jeff with 
the whole secret? Should he tell Jeff why he had 
lifted the knife and turned the tiger loose ? Should 
he tell the lion-tamer how this dandified jackanapes 
had come offering to marry Millie, when he found 
out that Millie was rich Greyborne’s only child, a 
fact he himself had known for seventeen years? 
Should he tell Jeff how for some years back he had 
thought of nothing day and night but marrying 
Millie when she grew up and spending the remain- 
der of his life in affluence and splendour, and now 
this young prinker wanted to come between him 


CATMUR^S CAVE. 


225 


and the reward of seventeen years. Jeff knew more 

than enough to lock him up for life, why not trust 

* 

Jeff altogether ? He was quite sure Jeff would never 
make an unfriendly use of anything he told him. 
Jeff would not inform agamst him. Jeff was a man 
of honour. He would trust all to Jeff Monday. He 
would tell the lion-tamer the whole story of the girl 
and of Luxmore’s designs, and then he would con- 
fide m Jeff his own belief that Luxmore had caused 
himself to be carried off by friends while there was 
no one hut himself and the widow in the house, and 
that he had carried off the widow with him in the 
hope that she might now and then have a lucid in- 
terval, during which an account of the real occur- 
rences at that accident could be obtained from Ellen. 
Jeff had always shown extraordinary kindness and 
attention to the imbecile woman. The first thing 
for him to do would be to explain what object Lux- 
more in all probability had in carrying off the widow, 
an object which caused him no uneashiess, for Ellen 
had never in seventeen years had one moment of 
clear reason. 

Catmur was startled from his profound reverie by 
the voice of Jeff Monday saying : 

“ I shall bury the tiger to-morrow.” 

“Oh! Ah! will you?” said Catmur, but half 
hearing and half understanding. 


226 


CATMUIt^S CAVE. 


“Yes; I shall bury the tiger to-morrow. Bart 
Catmur, are you awake ? Ar^ you listening to me ? ” 

“Ay. I am awake and listening, Jeff. If you 
have anything to say, speak out. There is some- 
thing I want to say to you when you have done.” 

“Very good. I have something to say to you.” 
He put his pipe in his pocket, and clasping his small, 
delicately made hands in front of him, sat rigid, 
stiff. “Yesterday I shot the tiger — the only thing 
I loved in the world — to save you from the hang- 
man’s rope. When I shot my only friend, I thought 
of nothing but keeping the blood of murder from 
your hands. I only thought, ‘ Bart is a man who 
has been fair to me. He is now no man. Owing to 
something or another, he is now no man, but a fero- 
cious, mad, blood-seeking fiend. I will save the man 
who has been fair to me from this ferocious, blood- 
thirsty fiend.’ So, Bart, I shot the tiger, my only 
friend.” 

“ Yes ; well ? ” 

“ To-morrow I shall bury the tiger, and I shall be 
alone. I want you to give me sometliing for my 
heart to love.” 

“What! The fool? Ellen?” 

“No, the girl, Millie,” 

“ Millie ! You want Millie ! ” shouted Catmur, 
springing to his feet, and advancing towards him 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


227 


threateningly. “ Are you mad too ? Are you mad 
too ? You want Millie ! Man, do you expect me to 
keep my hands off you ? ” 

“Yesterday, Bart Catmur, to save your neck from 

the hangman’s rope, I shot my tiger ” 

“ Your tiger ! You lying scoundrel ! My tiger. 
The beast I gave my money for ! Your tiger ! ” 
He stood before Jeff, foaming at the mouth, shaking 
his trembling fist in the face of Jeff Monday, sitting 
rigidly back in the easy-chair. 

“ Yesterday, Bart Catmur, to save your life, I shot 
my tiger, and it was all I loved in the world — all I 
had in the world. To-day I ask you for the girl.” 

“ You ask me for the girl ! I tell you, you shall 
never, never, never get her ! ” roared Catmur, shak- 
ing and panting. The foam flew from his lips. 
He dug his nails into his palms until there were 
pools of blood where the nails bit the flesh. The 
cut on his head burst forth again and fresh blood 
flowed down his purple, congested face. 

“ I ask you for the girl, and I am as sure I shall 
get her as I was that I should save your life when I 
caught the butt of the tiger’s lug on the sight of the 
rifle.” 

“ What ! You, an honourable man, would black- 
mail me for a girl’s sake ? ” shouted Catmur, scorn- 
fully. 


228 


CATMURS CAVE. 


“N^o; I would not blackmail you for any sake. 
But I will marry the girl in spite of you, Bart Cat- 
mur — in spite of all the world ! ” 

“ What, you ungrateful, sick nigger, would you 
throw me over for love of a girl ? ” 

“Well, yes, no doubt, but that is not the reason 
I am going to marry Millie. I might do without 
her, as I have done without all things, if it had not 
been for one thing.” 

“ And what is that ? ” he cried fiercely. 

“Millie loves me, and nothing in all the world 
counts beside that.” 

“ Millie loves you ! ” cried Catmur, grasping his 
neck below his ears and crushing the fiesh of his 
neck. 

“ Millie loves me, and has promised to be my 
wife.” 

“ I am hit here ! My head ! ” cried Catmur, m a 
suffocatmg voice, as he fell to the fioor. 


CATMUirS CAVE. 


229 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

TWO MESSAGES TO MR. GEEYBORNE. 

Hugh Luxmore’s plan of flight, incliidmg the ab- 
duction of Mrs. Starr, was very simple, and, owing 
to the mode of life and habits of the Farm house- 
hold, most easy of execution. 

Several considerations made him resolve to get 
from under the roof of Bartholomew Catmur. In 
the first place, it was not pleasant to lie helpless in 
the house of a man who, he was firmly convinced, 
had attempted his life. Then he felt sure his letter 
to Mr. Greyborne had been suppressed or tampered 
with. It would be impossible for him to recover 
quickly, or at all, while completely at the mercy and 
in the power of this man Catmur. 

The one thing which made him resolve to carry 
off Mrs. Starr with him was that he had a hope that 
she, under favourable conditions and medical treat- 
ment, might recover memory, and be able to estab- 
lish the identity of Millie without the assistance of 
Catmur at all. He had no intention of prosecuting 


230 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


Catmur ; prosecutions were always doubtful in issue ; 
and even if he could prove Catmur had knowingly 
locked him up with the ferocious brute, the convic- 
tion would not one jot forward his designs of making 
Millie his wife. But he now felt it would be a 
monstrous fatuity to place faith any longer in the 
showman, and the idea of bargaining with him and 
paying him a large sum of money was revolting, 
sickening. 

Luxmore had a friend, Louis Bertram, a man of 
thirty-five years of age, who enjoyed a moderate 
private income, was a bachelor, and might be de- 
scribed as the universal amateur. He had been in 
the army, had then taken to the law, later tried 
medicine. Then he went on the stage for a while, 
gave up the stage and took to painting, wrote a novel 
and a volume of verse, was a member of half a dozen 
clubs, a universal favourite, and always ready to 
engage in any scheme which promised amusement 
or excitement. He acted on the principle that it 
was better to burn out than rust out, and he would 
rather lead a forlorn hope in any cause at all than 
sit still and do nothing in the best cause on earth. 

To Louis Bertram, 14 Palgrave Street, Charing 
Cross, Luxmore wrote that long letter on Friday 
morning. 

Luxmore said that in an accident which was not 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


231 


wholly an accident — an accident contrived by an 
enemy, in fact — he had broken his leg. That Ber- 
tram was to come that evening to the Farm at nine 
o’clock with an ambulance to carry him away and a 
cab for a lady of weak intellect who was to accom- 
pany him. The elderly lady was to pass as Liix- 
more’s aunt, and all other matters would be ex- 
plained to Bertram, the fact being that the writer 
was much shaken, but that if all went well now 
and with the plan entrusted to Bertram, Luxmore 
would in the end, and iii a highly honourable and 
creditable way, come into an enormous fortune and 
marry a beautiful wife. 

To bear an active part in such an enterprise, Ber- 
tram would have freely sacrificed all the grave 
historic sanctities of the British Constitution. 

Accordingly he did all things necessary, and at 
nine o’clock carried off in an ambulance Hugh Lux- 
more, and in a friend’s brougham, which he drove 
himself, the submissive Mrs. Starr. At eight min- 
utes past twelve o’clock he lied to Catmur in saying 
Hugh Luxmore was not in his house, and at nine 
and a half minutes past he emptied the water jug 
on Catmur’s head. At twelve minutes past he went 
back to Luxmore and informed the secretary with 
gTeat glee that the enemy had been put to flight 
with ignominy and a cataclysm. 


232 


CATMUH^S CAVE. 


The obedient, uncomplaining, submissive Mrs. 
Starr had been handed over to Bertram’s discreet 
housekeeper, and Luxmore had been accommodated 
with a back room on the second floor. 

The visit of Catmur to Palgrave Street had in- 
terrupted a chat between Luxmore and" Bertram. 
When the short, energetic, light-haired owner of 
the house was once more quiet enough to allow Lux- 
more to go on with his history, the secretary said : 

“I have now, Bertram, told you everything up 
to the point at which I resolved not only to escape 
from the power of that merciless scoundrel, but to 
carry off this Mrs. Starr with me. She has been for 
many years suffering from feebleness of mind and 
suspension of memory. She is a complete idiot, an 
imbecile. The day before yesterday, when I called 
first on Catmur, he took me to his house and intro- 
duced me to this unfortunate woman, and made me 
put my finger on the portion of her head that was 
injured. There is in the bone a depression. Now 
I have over and over again read of operations apply- 
ing to this case — operations in which the depressed 
piece of bone being raised, the memory was restored. 
I do not know that the time of depression was ever 
so long as seventeen years.” 

“ Of course, my dear fellow,” cried the little man 
enthusiastically, “ the operation is one of the most 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


233 


commonplace nowadays in the higher walks of 
the profession. Any hospital in London would he 
only too glad to get hold of our dear friend, Mrs 
Ellen Starr.” 

“ But I don’t want the thing done in an hospital. 
I want the operation performed in private.” 

“ Then you have come to the right shop. This is 
the very house for the job, and I know the man for 
the work. I know him well. He and I were at 
Guy’s together ; Dr. Ernest Blayfield, you know him, 
by repute anyway. He’ll do the trephining for the 
mere fun of the thing. He’s a thorough scientist, 
you know, and would rather any day lose a whole 
queue of paying patients than one chance of sport- 
ing the auger. He’ll let daylight mto Mrs. Ellen 
Starr’s noddle, my dear Luxmore, and she will 
prove everything you want about your Andalusian 
maid. You shall be married in Hanover Square, 
with a bishop to tie the knot, and your dear old friend 
Louis Bertram to see you safe through the ordeal 
as your best man ! Then, my dear fellow, if you 
don’t intend turning your facts into a volume of 
serious history, large octavo, sixteen shillings. I’ll 
weave them into a charming novel, three vol- 
umes, crown octavo, thirty-one and sixpence. But 
seriously — I have been joking only about the liter- 
ary aspect of the affair — the operation can be per- 


234 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


formed here, and Blayfield, whom I know very well, 
is the man. There will he no opposition on the 
part of Mrs. Starr ?” 

“ Oh, no. She will do everything she is told. 
She has absolutely no will of her own.” 

“ Bravo ! Then the thing is as good as done.” 

“ And what do you think the result is likely to 
he, Bertram?” 

“Well, you know I never took out my degrees in 
surgery, and I have only kept up whatever I once 
knew in a very cursory and slipshod way. I think 
the restoration of memory may he hoped for ; still, 
seventeen years is a long time. AnyAvay, the opera- 
tion can do no harm, and may help you towards 
your enchanting sehorita. And now, my dear 
fellow, you must get some sleep. This has been a 
terrible day on a man with shaken nerves, lacerated 
scalp and fractured femur. This Catmur can do 
nothing. I’ll send off your message to Mr. Grey- 
borne after breakfast. Catmur, being at the wrong 
side of the law, won’t give us any trouble through 
the police or his solicitor, and if he comes here per- 
sonally, I keep something worse than a ferocious 
tiger to let loose on him. I have an epic poem, — 
blank verse epic poem, my boy,— and if he shows his 
nose here into a room, I will asphyxiate him with 
that epic — ha-ha ! Now, swallow your draught. 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 235 

and shut your eyes, and I’ll sit by you till you’re 
asleep. 

Next morning nothing was heard at Palgrave 
Street of Catmur. Dr. Frazer had lost one patient 
and obtained another. Luxmore had mysteriously 
disappeared and Bartholomew Catmur was now 
in the doctor’s hands for treatment of a slight 
apoplectic seizure. He was to be kept in bed and 
not allowed to excite himself in any way. The only 
thing approaching business which he was allowed to 
attend to was the nomination of a substitute for 
himself at the show. To an old associate of Cat- 
mur’s, a man who had just finished a tour in the 
country as a lecturer with a panorama, the duties of 
expounder to the Caves were delegated, and, for the 
first time in its history, that day the greatest show 
tinder the earth ran its course without the presence 
of the founder and owner. 

Dr. Frazer had warned Catmur against worrying 
his mind about business. “ If you worry yourself 
about business now,” said the doctor, when after 
hours the showman gradually recovered conscious- 
ness, the business may have to get on altogether 
without you.” 

But he might as well say to a man, “ If you have 
any desire to prolong your life you must not 
breathe.” 


236 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


It was not, however, the business of the Caves 
that occupied Catmur’s mind, and robbed him of the 
peace so essential to his cure. At ordinary times he 
would have been in a fever about the show, but 
now the show seemed a matter of slight and distant 
interest. For years he had looked on the show as 
a mere stop-gap. It was only a means of supplying 
bread and cheese while he was on his way to the 
opulent banquet of Millie’s fortune. 

How near was he to that fortune now ? 

Luxmore, that coxcomb, that fop, that maiden- 
faced apology for a man, had stolen into the secret 
of Millie’s birth and asked him for aid in his designs. 
And Jeff Monday, whose ugliness was a byword 
and who had never looked at a woman before, had 
stolen into the girl’s heart and got her promise to 
be his wife ! 

Two such blows as these, falling one day after 
another, were enough to drive a man mad. They 
had driven him mad when he raised that knife over 
Luxmore’s neck, and when he thrust Luxmore into 
the menagerie in which the tiger was at large. And 
now his madness had culminated in a fit, and he 
was powerless to do anything. 

Ho doubt Luxmore had gone back to Lancaster 
Gate, but had he taken Ellen there with him ? That 
was the great question. For taking Ellen there 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


237 


with him would mean that he was going to tell all 
he knew to Greyhorne. Well, he might tell all he 
knew, but that would not prove anything, and Ellen 
could not help him in the least, for she never got 
back her memory for an hour — ^had never got back 
her memory for a minute even — since she lost it 
years ago. 

Then a bright thought came into his head : 

“ Suppose they find out all they wish, what good 
will it be to them if they can’t find the girl ? 

“ If Ellen and Luxmore can disappear mysteri- 
ously — the vanishing lady and gentleman — why 
can’t Millie come out in her new and original char- 
acter as the vanishing heiress ? Capital idea ! 

“ But how is it to be managed? Up to last night 
I had but to order, or rather to ask Millie to do a 
thing and it was done. How much of my authority 
does Jeff Monday hold now ? Curse Jeff Monday ! ” 

Then all at once he asked himself a question that 
nearly brought on a second attack. 

“ What am I going for now ? All my thought of 
marrying Millie is now as much out of the question 
as of my marrying Queen Aime. What am I going 
for, then ? ” 

He thought a long time. Then he rang a hand- 
bell, and in spite of the doctor’s strict injunctions 
that he was to do nothing, wrote a note to Mr. John 
Greyborne of Lancaster Gate. 


238 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

JOHN GKEYBORNE’s WILL. 

Mr. Greyborne was greatly pleased and relieved 
next morning — Saturday — to get a note from Ber- 
tram saying that Mr. Hugh Luxmore had met with 
a serious accident by which he was disabled, that 
he had written the evening before last to Lancaster 
Gate, but that he feared his letter had miscarried, 
and that he was now lying at Palgrave Street. 

Putting on his hat and coat, Mr. Greyborne went 
at once to Louis Bertram’s house. 

“ I got your note,” he said to Luxmore, on entering 
the invalid’s room, “ but there was no address on it. 
Here it is. I am extremely sorry that you are hurt.” 

“ Catmur must have torn off the address,” said 
Luxmore. ' 

Mr. Greyborne took a seat at the foot of the bed, 
and having again expressed his sorrow and made 
inquiries as to the progress the patient was making 
asked, “And how were you so unfortunate as to 
break your leg ? ” 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


239 


Bertram, who had brought the visitor up, said 
that if anything were wanted the bell would fetch 
him and left the room. 

Luxmore had made up his mind during the night 
to play a bold game, a desperate game. Up to a 
certain point it would require the greatest skill. 
What Bertram had said about the chances of the 
restoration of memory in Mrs. Starr had diminished 
Luxmore’s faith in the efficacy of the operation. It 
was more than likely Catmur would at length take 
action of some kind in the matter. The nature of 
that action Luxmore could not forecast, but it was 
sure not to be friendly to the secretary. Luxmore 
had made up his mind that the present was a posi- 
tion for now or never. 

“ I have to begin,” said the yomig man humbly, 
“ with a confession.” 

“A confession ! ” said the old man with a smile. 
“ You haven’t been brawling, Luxmore ? ” 

“ No, sir. I have not been brawling. I have been 
doing what in a man with my means is worse : I 
have been falling in love.” 

“Whew! Is that the confession you wish to 
begin with ? ” said the contractor encouragingly. 

“ Yes, sir. That is the confession I have to begin 
with.” 

“Well, my dear Luxmore, there is nothhig very 


240 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


unusual or shameful for a young man in that/’ 
Greyborne’s face shone with a benevolent kindliness 
Luxmore had never noticed in it before, and this 
was now a source of reproach to him. 

“ Perhaps, not, sir, under ordinary circumstances ; 
but there are facts in my case which add serious- 
ness to it.” 

“Very well. Go on. I am quite easy. I know 
you too well to fear there is anything disgraceful to 
you in it.” 

“ You are right, sir. There is nothing disgraceful 
to me in it, but there is something very embarrass- 
ing.” 

“ I am now prepared for a romance,” said Grey- 
borne, crossing his legs and looking at the young 
man encouragingly. 

“You shall hear, sir, the most extraordinary ro- 
mance you ever listened to in all your life. Some 
months ago I attended, in a suburban hall, the per- 
formance in which a clairvoyante took part. She was 
a girl of most exquisite and spiritual beauty. Her 
appearance made a profound impression on me. I 
went again and again to the entertainment, and the 
oftener I went the greater my admiration grew. I 
made the most searching inquiries and found out 
that IMiss Mildred Starr — ^that is the clairvoyante’s 
name — was of irreproachable character — ^that, in fact, 


CATMURS CAVE. 


241 


she had practically never been in the world at all, 
and lived in the most rigid seclusion with her mother 
and uncle.” 

Luxmore did not give the “ uncle’s ” name. “ Mil- 
dred Starr ” was in all likehhood a name Greyhorne 
had never seen. Catmur’s, no doubt, he had read 
on posters, but without making any connection be- 
tween the name and events of years before. Lux- 
more did not want Greyborne to anticipate or guess 
what was coming. An enormous lot would depend 
on the way in which the story was unfolded ; and 
although he had resolved to tell the old man a good 
deal, it was necessary to proceed with caution. 

He went on : 

“ Up to this I have not exchanged a word with 
Miss Starr. I do not ask you to believe me, but it 
is still quite true that so jealously is this young lady 
guarded that I have the best reason in the world for 
believing no man has ever yet said a tender word in 
her ear or taken her hand in his.” 

“ Is not that very unusual, in people of this call- 
ing ? ” said the old man, merely for the sake of say- 
ing something. 

“ Most unusual. I venture to say it is unique. 
Well, I sought the acquaintance of the uncle. I was 
able to bring influence to bear upon him sufficient 

to overcome his rooted disinclination to strangers. 

16 


242 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


I told him my story, he promised me his good 
offices. I told him it was no trifling or evanescent 
passion. I told him it was a case of life and death 
with me. I told him I could do him substantial 
services if he would give me a chance of winning 
Miss Starr. I told him I would place all, my all, on 
that one desperate chance, and that if I did not suc- 
ceed I should ” Luxmore paused with gloomy 

signiflcance. 

“ You told him you would own yourself unsuc- 
cessful and retire like an honourable man,” said 
Greyborne cheerfully, endeavouring to eliminate the 
tragic note Luxmore was importing. 

“ I told him I should blow my brains out.” 

“ Now, now, now ! That was wild talk.” 

“ I meant what I said. I do not now know whether 
I shall want to live. I sent you word I was here. I 
wish to lay the whole case before you. I wish to 
put myself without reservation of any kind in your 
hands. To you and to you alone I conflde all ; on 
you and on you alone my fate hangs.” 

Greyborne looked at his secretary with grave in- 
quietude. “ On me and on me alone does your fate 
hang ! ” he repeated in a pained, puzzled way. “ Are 
you sure you are considering what you say ? ” 

“ I am most closely weighing my words.” 

“ If so, all right. I shall no doubt understand 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


243 


yonr meaning when I hear more.” Greyborne saw 
that the young man had cuts and plasters on his 
head, and thought that perhaps the brain had been 
injured. 

“ I had every reason to think matters would go 
on well, when, going incautiously into a menagerie 
attached to the show, I was attacked by a ferocious 
tiger and escaped with my life and a broken leg. I 
should have been a dead man only that an attendant 
shot the tiger.” 

“ Attacked by a tiger ! Good gracious ! what a 
horrible thing ! Where was this dangerous show ? ” 

“ At the other side of the Thames. Would you 
oblige me by giving me a drink of water ? ” he said. 
His excitement was intense. His hand shook as he 
took the glass from the old man. He was on the 
point of putting his great stake on the cast. He 
had a choking, suffocating sensation. 

While he drank the water he was to tell the old 
man that the supposititious uncle of the girl informed 
him she was enormously wealthy, that there was a 
secret about her birth, or rather that when an 
infant she was supposed to have died, that the sup- 
posititious uncle had kept the secret of her birth to 
himself and now offered it to him for ten thousand 
pounds, that suddenly it flashed into his mind that 
this man was the brother of Mr. Greyborne’s nurse, 


244 


CATMUB^S CAVE. 


and that, judged by the extraordinary likeness be- 
tween the beautiful clairvoyante and the portrait of 
Mrs. Greyhorne, there could not he the shadow of 
doubt the Millie Starr of to-day was the grown-up 
and renamed Inez Greyhorne of seventeen years 
ago. 

When he had reached this point he should affect 
to be overwhelmed with agony at the thought of 
losing the girl he loved because of the enormous dis- 
parity between her fortune and his own. Then, if 
his strength lasted, he should make a wild appeal to 
Greyhorne to give him as a wife the girl he restored 
to the old man as a daughter. He could not per- 
suade himself that his chance was good, but his case 
was desperate, with Catmur threatening him and 
in possession of the whole story, of which he only 
guessed a part, and above all, in possession of the 
girl herself, with the power of leading her by the 
hand at any moment into the presence of the father. 

He felt far from strong, far from equal to the task 
before him. Perhaps the plan was idiotically un- 
likely to succeed, but he could think of no other 
now, and there was no time to invent another. At 
all risks he must try to get the father on liis side. 

It was, of course, a monstrous thing for him, a 
secretary with a couple of himdred a year, to ask a 
man of Greyborne’s enormous wealth for his daugh- 


CATMUR^S CAVE, 


245 


ter, but then he was first of all going to give hack 
to the old man a daughter, the only living being of 
his blood, whose death he had mourned for years 
and years. 

“ And now,” said he, speaking in a low voice and 
with a cruel sense of failing strength, “ comes one 
of the wonderful parts of the romance. While I 
was lying hurt the reputed uncle of the girl told 
me, no doubt by way of cheering me, that Miss 
Starr was not really his niece at all, but a child he 
had adopted long ago, and that he had just found 
out she was heiress to an enormous fortune.” 

“ How delightful ! ” said Mr. Greyborne, resolved 
to take a cheerful view of the case whenever there 
was any excuse for doing so. “ What could be more 
romantic, more just, than that the young lady you 
loved when poor should all at once turn out to be 
rich?” 

“ But she is not rich. She has colossal, prodigious 
wealth.” 

“ All the better. All the more just. Surely you 
do not object to her on that score ? ” 

“ No ; but her guardian must object to me, a pau- 
per, a poor penniless fellow with not a farthing ” 

“ Stop,” said Mr. Greyborne suddenly and author- 
itatively. He rose from his chair and took a few 
turns up and down the room excitedly. Luxmore 


246 


CATMUIt'8 CAVE. 


had never seen him so agitated before. The old 
man swayed his arms to and fro as he walked, and 
at last stood at the foot of the bed, and looking at 
the patient, said with decision, “ I’ll tell him.” 

Luxmore stared at the other in amazement. He 
was about to hear some astounding news. What ? 
He scarcely breathed. 

“ When we were speaking the other evening after 
dinner at Lancaster Gate,” said the old man, “ I 
told you you might make your mind easy about the 

future No, do not say anything. I must speak 

now ; you may as well know now as when I am dead 
— ^better, a thousand times better. I have now known 
you, Luxmore, for more than a year. I have met you 
every day. You have sat at my table, and I have 
watched you much more closely than you supposed.” 

The prostrate man felt growing faint. What ter- 
rible blow was going to be struck ? What awful 
revelation was gomg to be made ? 

“ During all that time I have never seen you do, 
never heard you say, one thing which did not re- 
dound to the credit of your heart. You are an hon- 
ourable gentleman, Luxmore. I have grown to love 
you as my own son.” Greyborne paused. 

The secretary gasped, but could not, did not try 
to utter a word. 

“ I have no one in the world belonging to me, not 


CATMUn^S CAVE. 


247 


a soul. I like you better than any man I have ever 
met, young or old, rich or poor, for you are the soul 
of honour, and have a delicacy of feeling I never met 
in any man before. In my will I have left fifty 
thousand pounds to D’Alligham, a hundred thou- 
sand in charities, and the rest to you.” 

With a shriek Luxmore sat up in the bed. “ What ? 
to me ? ” 

“ Yes, nearly nine hundred thousand to you.” 

“ Great heavens ! ” cried Luxmore, “ and that 
without plotting or lying or treason. Be merciful 
to me ! I am punished beyond my strength,” and 
with a moan he fell back. 

He had fainted. 


248 


CATMUIVS CAVE. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

ME. CATMUe’s DECLAEATION. 

Me. Geeyboene started back from the foot of the 
bed, shocked by the cry, the strange words and the 
collapse of his secretary. For an instant he thought 
Lnxmore must be dead. Then suddenly regaining 
presence of mind, he rang the bell. 

In a moment Bertram was in the room. “ Ah ! ” 
he cried. “ Fainted. Over-excitement. He should 
not have been allowed to excite himself at all. 
Please, don’t hold the head up. I’ll have him round 
in a jiffy. It might be as well for him if he does not 
see you here when he domes to. Will you be so 
kind as to wait for me downstairs ? I’ll be with you 
in a few minutes. There is no occasion for alarm. 
I’m not quite a doctor, but I know enough, Mr. Grey- 
borne, to assure you there is no immediate danger ; 
still, we must have no more excitement.” 

Wlien Bertram came downstairs from the sick- 
room he said that Luxmore had recovered conscious- 
ness, but was extremely weak in body, and seemed 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


249 


to be a little weakened in mind too, as he was vapour- 
ing about the wages of treason being his, as if he 
had committed some first-class transpontine melo- 
dramatic crime and was chewing the cud of memory. 

Mr. Greyborne took his leave, promising to call in 
the evening for news of Luxmore’s condition. 

He went away depressed and astonished. What 
had caused Luxmore to shriek when informed of 
his generous intention ? What had caused the in- 
jured man to cry out against himself ? Why had 
he spoken of plotting, of lying, of treason ? These 
words had odious meanings, and seemed to have been 
forced from Luxmore’s lips by the notification that 
the secretary was to be his heir. Could it be that 
this yomig man had invented the story just told, or, 
anyway, harped upon the subject of his own poverty 
in order to force the hand of him, Greyborne ? It 
seemed ungenerous and unjust to harbour such a 
suspicion. Yet it was the only explanation he could 
possibly supply of the words wrung from Luxmore 
on hearing the news which ought to have been 
received with joy, except, indeed, the young man’s 
mind had been affected by his accident and he was 
suffering from some distressing delusion. 

That morning in his haste he had come away from 
home without opening his letters. He would go 
back and look at them before going to the club. 


250 CATMUIfS CAVE. 

When he returned to Lancaster Gate he found 
among his letters the following, marked “Strictly 
private, for Mr. Greyborne’s eyes only ” : 

“ The Faem, Clayton Flat, 

“ Clayton Junction, Saturday Morning. 

“ Deae Sie : 

“ The moment you get this come here. I have in- 
formation of the most vital importance to give you. 
I would go to you only I am laid up with illness. 
What I have to tell you is of a strictly private and 
confidential character. You will find this house in 
the middle of Clayton Flat. You may know my 
name from posters throughout London. 

“ I am, dear Sir, 

“ Your sincere well-wisher and friend, 

“ Baetholosiew Catmue.” 

“ Two summonses to sick men in one day,” said 
Greyborne to himself, as he turned once more away 
from his own door. “ This is not a mere coincidence. 
Of course I know Catmur’s name. ‘ Catraur’s Caves, 
the greatest show under the earth. Clayton Junc- 
tion.’ This is the place where poor Luxmore saw 
the beautiful girl. Poor fellow, he had not strength 
to tell me all. Well, if it will improve his position 
in the eyes of this young girl’s people. I’ll indicate 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


251 


to them that one day Hugh Luxmore will have a 
fortune large enough to make him, in a worldly 
sense, the equal of any heiress in London. 

“ Catmur ! Catmur ! It is not a very common 
name. It ought anyway to he familiar for ever to 
me. That was the name of Ellen Taylor’s brother. 
I wonder can this man be anything to Ellen Taylor ? 
Most likely he is. Perhaps it is the very same man. 
How I remember that brother of Ellen Taylor’s was 
an acrobat or conjuror or showman of some kind. 
Of course it must be the same man. Bartholomew ! 
That was, now that I recall it, the Christian name 
of Ellen Taylor’s brother. Hothing could be more 
unlikely than that there are two Bartholomew Cat- 
murs, unless they are father and son. I thought it 
a strange coincidence that I should be summoned to 
two bedsides the one day. Perhaps, after all, there 
may be no coincidence : the two cases may have 
some more reasonable connection than the mere 
accident of occurring at the one time.” 

Catmur had told Millie that he expected a visitor, 
that she was to keep herself in readmess to come up 
to his room when he sent for her, but that she was 
not to show herself until Susan come with word her 
uncle wanted her. 

When Mr. Greyborne arrived he was at once shown 
up to the room where Catmur lay. 


252 


CATMURS CAVE, 


As soon as the old man was seated Catmur plunged 
into the heart of business at once. He knew he was 
not subtle, and that if he tried to be clever he might 
only blunder. He began : 

“ Mr. Greyborne, I will not ask you whether you 
have heard anything more of this affair than Mr. 
Luxmore’s note told you, or whether you know 
everything Mr. Luxmore knows. I shall go on 
straight, merely sayuig two things first — ^namely, 
that I know I may trust to your generosity in the 
matter of reward, and that, however anybody else 
may have behaved in this matter, Mr. Hugh Lux- 
more has behaved to you, sir, as a traitor.” 

“ Traitor ! Traitor ! How traitor ? ” said Grey- 
borne, surprised and disturbed at finding this same 
word in this other man’s mouth also. 

“Well,” said Catmur, “you will be able to find 
plenty of justification for the word in what I have 
to say. A few days ago Mr. Hugh Luxmore called 
upon me and asked me if I would take twenty thou- 
sand pounds to aid him in marrying Miss Starr, a 
young lady who has most of her life passed as my 
niece.” 

“ Twenty thousand pounds ! That is a large sum 
of money.” 

“Yes, but this Mr. Hugh Luxmore wanted good 
value for his money. I see by that remark you 


CATMUWS CAVE. 253 

know no more about the affair than Hugh Luxmore’s 
note told you.” 

Mr. Greyborne thought, on the contrary, that he 
knew everything about the affair, but held his 
peace. 

“ Well,” Catmur went on, “ what Luxmore said 
in connection with Miss Starr set me thinking and 
looking about the house, and in the end, after 
searching among my dead wife’s papers, I came 
upon a document which shows as plainly as day- 
light Mr. Hugh Luxmore was a shameful traitor to 
you.” 

“ To me ! ” 

“To you. Now, Mr. Greyborne, I place myself 
entirely in your hands. You will, I know, deal fairly 
by me. I am going to place in your hands a docu- 
ment for which Mr. Hugh Luxmore would have 
given me twenty, thirty, forty thousand pounds. I 
make no terms with you. When you have finished 
the document you will know why I sent for you in 
such hot haste, and you will, as an honourable gentle- 
man, say what you think I am fairly and squarely 
entitled to. I need only say before you begin to 
read that the child mentioned as having lived is now 
known as Miss Starr, the young lady for whose hand 
Mr. Hugh Luxmore offered me forty thousand pounds 
when he found out from another source the story in 


254 CATMUE^S CAVE. 

this paper. This paper itself he has never laid eyes 
upon.” 

Catmur handed the old man a folded sheet of blue 
ruled foolscap as he spoke. 

The contractor took it, and going over to the win- 
dow, stood with his hack to the light. 

“ You had better sit down,” said Catmur, watch- 
ing Greyhorne closely. “ It will take some time to 
read, and even yet you are not prepared for the sur- 
prise it will cause you. 

Greyhorne followed Catmur’s advice, took a chair 
by the small dressing-table in the window and began 
the document. He read on steadily to the end, never 
once takmg his eyes off the paper. When he fin- 
ished he looked at Catmur, lying silent and watch- 
ful, on the bed. He put the declaration down be- 
side him on the table, and said in a low, firm voice : 

“ Mr. Catmur, you say this matter, this astonish- 
ing matter, has only come to your knowledge lately ? ” 

“ Within the present week. When Luxmore came 
to me first I had no more knowledge of it than you 
had then,” said Catmur, lying glibly. “ Luxmore 
told me he had found it out or guessed it from some 
papers he found in helping you with your ‘ Life.’ ” 

“ Then Luxmore, instead of being an honourable 
man, is a low, mercenary villain.” 

“ Honourable man ! Why, he is the lowest kind of 


CATMUR'S CAVE. 


255 


all scoundrels — a traitor. He lived under your roof, 
he broke your bread, he took your money, and he 
wanted to repay all your kindness by buying your 
daughter from me with your money, marry the girl, 
and then pretend he found out only then, when she 
was fast bound to him, that she was the daughter of 
one of the richest men in England.” 

“ It was infamous perfidy. And this very day — 
this very morning — I told him I had made him my 
heir.” 

“ You don’t want any stranger for an heir now. 
You have your own fiesh and blood to inherit your 
money.” 

“ Ay, if I were sure,” said the man, in a dreamy 
voice. “ But how can I be sure ? How can I know 
for certain ? You must not think for a moment I 
doubt you, Mr. Catmur, but to-day, since I came 
into this room, I have discovered the man I trusted 
most in the world is a corrupt, heartless, traitorous 
villain.” 

The old man was lost in reverie. 

“ What would convince you ? ” 

“ I do not think anything would convince me just 
now. I do not feel as if I should be able to believe 
in any one again.” 

“ You would not like to see Miss Starr, as she is 
called ? ” 


256 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


The old man roused up suddenly, as if awaking 
from a painful sleep. “ Is she here ? I did not 
know she was here. If what your dead wife said is 
true she must have some look of my dead wife, my 
poor lost Claudia.” 

“ But,” said Catmur, stretching out his hand and 
touching the hell, “ I thought her name was Inez ? ” 

“ The name of the child was Inez, hut my wife 

Merciful Heavens, what is this ? Am I dead 

already, that I see the dead ? ” 

The tall, slender figure of Millie was in the door- 
way. 

“ That’s Miss Starr,” said Catmur. 

“ It is my wife again ! ” 


catmub^s cave. 


267 


CHAPTER XXVL 

THE LAST. 

“ Does this gentleman bring news of my mother?” 
said the girl, looking from Greyborne to Catmur. 

The old man drew back a pace and then stepped 
forward a pace towards the figure m the doorway. 
“ It is her voice, my Claudia’s voice, again ! ” he whis- 
pered in a rapt tones. He went to her and took her 
hand, “ My child, my child ! come to the light, let 
me look at you. Let me hear your voice again.” 

“ Do you bring any news of my mother ? We are, 
oh, so anxious about her,” said the girl pleadingly, 
as she moved across the room to the window, led 
by him. 

“ You need not be uneasy about your mother, my 
child. I bring you news of her. You have her 
eyes, her hair, her hands,” he murmured softly in 
the same tone of reverie, as he meditated over her 
features. 

“ Then she is safe, sir ? You know she is safe ? ” 

“ Yes, dear, safe.” 


17 


^58 


CATMUWS CAVE. 


“Gh, thank you, sir; thank you. We were piti- 
:fully uneasy. We feared an accident to her in the 
street, she is so simple. Will she soon he with us 
.here again ? Where is she now ? ” 

“Millie,” said Catmur from the bed, as the girl sat 
tdown, “ we have made the most wonderful discov- 
ery. You know how Ellen always said her child 
•had a weak ankle ? ” 

“ Yes, but my ankle grew strong after my mother’s 
memory grew weak.” 

-“Your ankle was never weak. Your ankle was 
^always straight. She was right and we were wrong. 
We have only just foimd out her mother’s heart 
was not deceived.” 

“ What does he mean, sir ? Do you know what 
my uncle means, sir ? ” she said, turning her eyes, in 
surprise, from the bed to the old man standing over 
her. 

“ You are Ellen’s child, but only her foster child.” 

“ Only my mother’s foster child ! I do not under- 
stand.” 

“Well, you are only Ellen’s child by adoption, 
and my niece by adoption, as I may say ; though I 
did not know of it until this week. Do you remem- 
ber my telling you the night before last, just as 
Susan ran to us across the Flat, that one day you 
would be enormously rich ? ” 


CATMUTCS CAVE 259 

“ Yes, but that would not make me less — that 
would only make me more her child than ever.” 

“ I know it would make you more than ever her 
child in love and duty. But we now know for 
certain she was right about her own baby’s foot, and 
all of us were wrong. Her baby’s foot was weak, 
turned in. Her child could never stand upright on 
that foot ” 

“ But the child outgrew the weakness.” 

“ No, the child did not. Her child died. It was 
her child that was killed in the accident years ago. 
Your own mother died even before that, when you 
were an infant just born. You are not Ellen’s child, 
but Mrs. Greyborne’s, the wife of the rich Mr. Grey- 
borne. You have no mother living, Millie, and that 
is your father standing over you there.” 

The girl rose to her feet and stepped back from 
the old man. “ Oh, no, sir ; you must not be my 
father if my mother must be dead ! I have loved 
my sweet, simple mother all my life, and I do not 
know you, sir. Tell me, sir, my uncle is wrong. 
Oh, tell me he is wrong, and take me — in pity take 
me to my poor darling! I do not know you. I 
never saw you before. But I have loved her all my 
life with all my heart, and I want to go to her, to 
feel my arms round her once again.” 


260 


CATMUB'S CAVE. 


“ Child ! ” said the old man, “ what he has said is 
all strange past belief, both for you and for me, but 
it is all true. It is hard for you to bear now, my 
child, for you must lose as a mother her you have 
always loved for a mother ; and it is hard for me to 
bear now, child, for it brings back to me the memory 
of what I lost years ago. A mother you knew is 
taken from you, my child, and you feel the loss. A 
father you do not know is given to you and you feel 
no gain. I see in you, dearest, your mother, the 
wife who was inexpressibly dear to me, whom I 
lost; and never having known you, whom I get 
back, I feel only pain. But I get a daughter, and in 
Heaven’s good time we shall be reconciled to 
fate.” 

“ But I shall always love her ” 

“ Yes, dearest, always love where you have once 
loved. I began to love late m life. Love all you 
can, your adopted mother, and in time you will love 
me, for you are my child and it is my duty to win 
your love.” 

“ And you will want it ? ” 

“ Above all things, dearest.” 

“ And you will take it from me as I am, as I have 
it to give, as you find me able to give it ? ” 

“ What you give me, child, will be all gain to me, 
and I shall be grateful for it.” 


CATMUICS CAVE. 261 

“ You will take me as I am now ? you will not 
ask me to go back ? ” 

“ I will not ask you to go back, to take away 
what you have given to her, your adopted mother. 
Already, child, I begin to feel a calm I have never 
known for years. Already, I feel the peace that 
ought to fill the days of old age. When I go to 
where your mother is, dearest, I shall tell her I saw 
you, her little child, grown up with all the beauty 
of her form, and all the spirit of her beauty in her 
eyes and voice.” 

“ But there is not only the mother I love.” 

“ There are others. There is your uncle.” 

“ Yes, I love him too, and another.” 

“No ” cried the old man aghast, “not Lux- 
more?” 

“ No,” said Catmur, “ she never spoke to him. Is 
it Jeff, Millie? He told me you and he had 
spoken.” 

“ Yes, Jeff Monday. He is lonelier than I. He 
shot the tiger, the only thing he loved, the only 
thing that loved him — he shot the tiger to save Mr. 
Luxmore’s life.” 

“ But Mr. Luxmore wanted to marry you because 
he found out you were my daughter and would be 
rich.” 

“ I did not know that.” 


262 


GATMUB^S CAVE. 


The old man turned towards Catmur. “ I will 
ask only one question : is this man Jeff honourable 
towards women and men ? ” 

“ Honourable ! ” said she, with a scorn of such a 
question being asked about him. “Honourable 
among women and men ! Why, sir, he is honour- 
able among the beasts, and he, the tiger, loved 
him.” 

“ And he shot the tiger he loved to save his rival’s 
life?” 

“ Oh, he had no rival ! He did not tliink of me 
then. He told me he shot the tiger to save a human 
life.” 

Catmur turned uneasily on the bed. How much 
more would Jeff tell ? His own game was up. He 
had lost what he had been playing for. Jeff 
Monday held a terrible secret against him. This 
,girl would cleave to Jeff, though all the world 
were opposed to him. So far the old man 
showed no objection to Jeff. He, Bartholomew 
Catmur, had better be on the winning side. He 
said aloud : 

“ For Jeff Monday being an honest and honour- 
able man. I’ll answer with my life.” 

“I ask no more,” said the old man, holding out 
his hand to the girl. 

She caught the hand and sank upon her knees 


CATMUB'^S CAVE. 


263 


and kissed his hand. Looking up she said, “ I give 
you my duty, sir, my father. And by-and-by my 
love will come.” 

He raised her, and, overwhelmed with emotion 
kissed her on the brow. 

“ May I tell him, and ask him to come up ? He is 
below,” she said. 

“ Yes.” 

In a few minutes the girl returned, followed by 
the man. 

“ Sir, this is Jeff. I have told him all.” 

The old man bowed, and said : “ This lady tells 
me she had given you her heart before she knew 
she had a father. May I, sir, offer you her father’s 
hand?” 

“ She tells me you are rich,” said Jeff, “ but I did 
not hope to get to-day all I value of yours beyond 
herself.” He took the old man’s hand and smiled, 
that smile which made men draw back ashamed 
before the beauty of its spirit. 

“ When I saw her first,” said the old man, putting 
his hand on the girl’s shoulder, “ I seemed to see 
her mother over again. Her mother used to sing to 
me. When I saw you now I seemed to hear her 
mother singing over again.” 

“ I heard no song,” said Jeff. 

“ I am old, and I suppose fanciful. I suppose your 


264 CATMUKS CAVE. 

face gave me the content of heart I found in the 
music.” 

“Then,” said Jeff, “you must have heard my 
heart.” 

“ Or mine,” said the girl. 

“ Or perhaps I am so old, so near the Golden Gates 
that I heard the voice of the mother blessing you 
from within.” 


THE END. 


HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY. 


8 Adam Bede. By George 

Eliot 

355 Addie’s Husband 

429 Admiral’s Ward, The. 
By Mrs. Alexander. . . 

222 Against the Grain 

21 Airy Fairy Lilian. By 
“The Duchess” 

303 Alice’s Adventures in 

Wonderland. By Lewis 

Carroll 

265 Allan’s Wife. By H. 

Rider Haggard 

70 Allan Quatermain. By 
H. Rider Haggard... 
237 Alton Locke. By Rev. 

Charles Kingsley 

493 April’s Lady. By “ The 

Duchess ” 

497 Armorel of Lyonesse. By 

Walter Besant 

182 As Fate Would Have It. 

By Evelyn Gray 

72 As in a Looking Glass. 

By F. C. Philips 

308 At Bay. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander 

340 At the World’s Mercy. 
By Florence Warden. . 

304 At War With Herself. 

By Bertha M. Clay . . . 
176 Aunt Diana. By Rosa 
Nouchette Carey. .... 
476 An Australian Heroine. 
By Mrs. Campbell- 

Praed 

190 Avatar. By Theophile 

Gautier 

464 Awakening of Mary Fen- 
wick, The. By Bea- 
trice Whitby 

323 Bachelor’s Blunder, A. 
By W. E. Norris 


75 Bag of Diamonds, The. 

By G. Manville Fenn. 25 
523 Bailiff’s Maid, The. By 

E. Marlin 25 

44 Baled Hay. ByBillNye 25 
184 Baptized With a Curse. 

By E. S. Drewry 25 

316 Beaton’s Bargain. By 

Mrs. Alexander 25 

490 Beatrice. By H. Rider 

Haggard 25 

381 Beauty’s Daughters. By 

“The Duchess”...,. 25 
131 Beautiful Jim. By John 

Strange Winter 25 

79 Beforehand. By L. T. 

Meade 25 

353 Belle of Lynn, The. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

532 Between Life and Death. 

By Frank Barrett 25 

144 Beyond Compare. By 

Charles Gibbon 25 

296 Beyond Pardon. By B. 

M. Clay 25 

9 Bill Nye and Boomerang. 

By himself 25 

100 Bill Nye’s Chestnut. By 

Bill Nye 50 

160 Black Blood. By George 

Manville Fenn 25 

512 -Blind Fate. By Mrs. 

Alexander 25 

492 Blindfold. By Florence 

Marry at 25 

284 Blind Love. By Wilkie 

Collins 25 

507 Blind Musician, The. By 
William Westall and 

Sergius Stepniak 25 

231 Blood Money. By Chas. 

Gibbon 25 


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HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


261 Blood White Rose, A. 

By B, L. Farjeon 

232 Blue Ribbon, The. By 

Hawley Smart 

280 Bondman, The. By Hall 

Caine 

284 Borderland. By Jessie 

Fothergill 

491 Born Coquette, A. By 

“ The Duchess ” 

466 Bosky Dell, By Mrs. H. 

L. Cameron 

315 Bound by a Spell. By 

Hugh Conway 

1 12 Breezie Langton. By 

Hawley Smait 

209 Broken Blossom, A. By 

F. Marry at 

294 Broken Wedding Ring, A. 

By Bertha M. Clay.. . . 
519 Burgomaster’s Wife, The 

By Georg Ebers 

197 Buried Diamonds. By S. 

Tytler 

495 Burnt Million, The. By 

James Payn 

267 Buttons. By John Strange 

Winter 

140 By Misadventure. By 

Frank Barrett 

498 By Order of the Czar. By 
Joseph Hatton 

300 By Woman’s Wit. By 

Mrs. Alexander 

46 Called Back and Dark 
Days. By Hugh Con- 
way 

301 Cardinal Sin, A. By Hugh 

Conway 

310 Case of Reuben Malachi, 
The. By H. Sutherland 

Edwards 

219 Caught at Last. By Dick 

Donovan 

206 Chance or Fate. By Alice 

O’ Hanlon 

191 Chaplain’s Secret, The. 

By Leon de Tinseau. . 
344 Cherry Ripe. By Helen 

B. Mathers 

130 Chris. ByW.E. Norris 


186 Claire and the Forge- 


Master. By Georges 

Ohnet 25 

48 Claribel’s Love Story, By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

236 Cleopatra. By H. Rider 

Haggard 25 

21 1 Cleverly Won. By Haw- 
ley Smart 25 

423 Clique of Gold, The. By 

Emile Gaboriau 25 

185 Colonel Quaritch. By H. 

Rider Haggard 25 

257 Comedy of a Country 
House. By Julian Stur- 
gis 25 


346 Cometh Up as a Flower. 

By Rhoda Broughton. 25 
357 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye. 

By Helen B. Mathers. 25 
432 Commodore Junk. By G. 

Manville Fenn 25 

458 Confessions of an English 
Opium-Eater, and The 
English Mail-Coach. 

By Thomas DeQuincey 25 
90 Confessions of a Society 


Man 25 

192 Corinna. By Rita 25 

54 Count of Monte Cristo. 

By Alexandre Dumas. 

Complete in i vol 50 

401 Countess Eve, The. By 

J. H. Shorthouse 25 

525 Countess Gisela, The. By 

E. Marlitt 25 

162 Courting of Mary Smith, 

The. By F. W. Robin- 
son 25 

342 Court Royal. By S. Baring- 

Gould 25 

168 Crack County, A. By Mrs. 

Edward Kennard. . .. 25 

389 Crime of Christmas Day, 

The 25 

307 Crimson Stain, A. By 

Annie Bradshaw 25 

220 Crooked Path, A. By 

Mrs. Alexander 25 

202 Crown of Shame. By F. 

Marry at 25 


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HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


3 


252 Curse of Game’s Hold, 
The. By G. A. Henty. 
187 Dangerous Cats-paw, A. 
By David Christie Mur- 
ray 

124 Darby and J oan. By Rita. 
239 Dark House, The. By 
George Manville Fenn. 
392 Dark Marriage Morn, A. 

By Bertha M. Clay . . . 
475 Daughter’s Sacrifice, A. 

By F. C. Phillips 

60 David Copperfield. By 

Dickens 

50 Dawn. By H. Rider 

H aggard 

276 Dead Heart, The. By 

Charles Gibbon 

148 Dead Past A. By Mrs. 

H. Lovett Cameron . . 
53 Dead Secret, The. By 

Wilkie Collins 

80 Dean and His Daughter, 
The. By the author of 
“As in a Looking 

Glass ” 

1 13 Deemster, The. By Hall 

Caine 

337 Deldee ; or. The Iron 
Hand. By Florence 

Warden 

336 Demoniac, The. By Wal- 
ter Besant 

235 Derrick Vaughan, Novel- 
ist. By Edna Lyall . . 
179 Desperate Woman, A. By 
Adah M. Flo ward .... 
132 Devil’s Die, The. By 

Grant Allen 

147 Diana Barrington. By B. 

M. Croker 

376 Diana Carew. By Mrs. 

Forrester 

287 Dick’s Sweetheart. By 

“ The Duchess ” 

89 Dick’s Wandering. By 

Julian Sturgis 

479 Dinna Forget. By John 

Strange Winter 

298 Doctor Cupid. By Rhoda 
Broughton 


152 Dr. Glennie’s Daughter. 

By B. L. Farjeon .... 25 

229 Dr. Rameau. By Geo. 

Ohnet 25 

364 Dolores. By Mrs. For- 
rester 25 

224 Donovan. By Edna Lyall 25 
13 Dora Thorne. By Bertha 

M. Clay 25 

387 Doris. By ‘ ‘ The Duchess ” 25 
297 Doris’s Fortune. By 

Florence Warden. ... 25 

445 Driver Dallas, and Houp- 

La ! By J. S. Winter. 25 
83 Duchess, The. By “ The 

Duchess” 25 

228 Duchess of Rosemary 
Lane, The. By B. L. 

Farjeon 25 

439 Duke’s Secret, The. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

443 Earl’s Error, The. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

30 East Lynne. By Mrs. 

Wood 25 

408 Egoist, The. By George 25 

Meredith 25 

42 Eli Perkins. Wit, Flumor 

and Pathos 25 

474 Ellen Middleton. By Lady 

Georgiana Fullerton . . 25 

520 Emperor, The. By Georg 

Ebers 25 

216 Englishman of the Rue 
Cain, The. By H. F. 

Wood 25 

171 Esther. By Rosa Nou- 

chette Carey 25 

.485 Eve at the Wheel. By 

George Manville Fenn 25 
425 Executor. The. By Mrs. 

Alexander 25 

36 Fair Women. By Mrs. 

Forrester 25 

438 Fairy of the Alps, The. 

By E. Werner 25 

305 Fallen Idol, A. By F. 

Anstey 25 

no False Start, A. By Haw- 
ley Smart 25 


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4 


HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


285 Familywithout a Name, 

A. By Jules Verne.. 25 
538 Famous or Infamous? By 

Bertha Thomas 25 

343 Faith and Unfaith. By 

“The Duchess” 25 

447 Faust. By Goethe 25 

256 Fiery Ordeal, A. By B. 

M. Clay 25 

14 File No. 1 13. By E. 

Gaboriau 25 

481 Firm of Girdlestone,The. 

By A. Conan Doyle 25 

198 Flat-Iron for a Farthing, 

A. By Mrs. J. H. 

Ewing 25 

183 Flight to France, The. 

By Jules Verne 25 

166 Flying Dutchman, The ; 
or. The Death Ship. 

By W. Clark Russell. . 25 

286 For Another’s Sin. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

194 For Faith and Freedom. 

By Walter Besant .... 25 

159 For Lilias. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey 25 

362 For Maimie’s Sake. By 

Grant Allen 25 

509 For One and the World. 

By M. Betham-Edwards 25 
49 Forty Liars. By Bill Nye 25 
428 Foul Play. By Charles 

Reade 25 

494 First Violin, The. By 

Jessie Fothergill 25 

433 Friendship. By Ouida. . 25 

347 From Gloom to Sunlight. 

By Bertha M. Clay ... 25 

402 From the Earth to the 
Moon. By Jules Verne. 

Illustrated 25 

95 From the Other Side. By 
F. E. Notley, author of 

“ Olive Varcoe” 25 

92 Frozen Pirate, The. By 

W. Clark Russell 25 

188 Galloping Days at the 
Deanery. By Charles 
James ,25 


367 Garrison Gossip: Gathered 
in Blankhampton. By 
John Strange Winter. . 25 

467 Gertrude’s Marriage. By 

W. Heimburg 25 

366 Girl’s Heart, A. Author 

of “ Nobody’s Darling” 25 
161 Girl in the Brown Habit. 

By Mrs. Edward Ken- 

nard 25 

136 Glorious Gallop, A. By 

Mrs. Edward Kennard 25 
394 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt 25 
299 Golden Heart, A. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

363 Good-bye, Sweetheart! 

By Rhoda Broughton. 25 
154 Great Amherst Mystery, 

The. By Walter Hub- 

bell 25 

71 Great Hesper, The. By 

F. Barrett 25 

514 Great Mill Street Mystery, 

The. By Adeline Sar- 

geant 25 

530 Gred of Nuremburg. A 
Romance of the 15th 
Century. By Georg 

Ebers 25 

195 Grif. By B. L. Farjeon 25 
414 Guilderoy. By Ouida . . 25 

24 Guilty River, The, and 
The New Magdalen. 

By Wilkie Collins. ... 25 

442 Handy Andy. A Tale of 
Irish Life. By Samuel 

Lover 25 

258 Hardy Norseman, A. By 

Edna Lyall 25 

45 Harr)- Lorrequer. By 

Lever 25 

122 Harvest of Wild Oats, A. 

By Florence Marryat. . 25 

359 Haunted Life, A. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

180 Haunted Life, A. By 

Adah M. Howard .... 25 

263 Haute Noblesse, The. 

By G. Mannville Fenn 25 
533 Heart of Gold. By L. T. 

'Meade 25 


HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


5 


43 Heart and Science. By 

Wilkie Collins 

277 Hedri. By Helen Mathers 
141 Heir of Linne, The. By 

Robert Buchanan 

85 Her Desperate Victory. 

By M. L. Rayne 

295 Her Martyrdom. By Ber- 
tha M. Clay 

19 Her Mother’s Sin. By 

Bertha M. Clay 

478 Her Only Brother. By 

W. Heimburg 

395 Her Second Love. By 

Bertha M. Clay 

246 Here ward. By Charles 

Kingsley 

218 Herne Lodge. By The 

Earl of Desart 

255 Heroes, The. ByCharles 

Kingsley .... 

515 Herr Paulus : His Rise, 
His Greatness, and His 
Fall. By Walter Besant 
135 Hidden forYears. By Mrs. 

Kate Tannatt Woods. 
453 Hidden Perils. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 

369 Hilda. By Bertha M. 

Clay 

446 Home Again. By George 

Macdonald 

518 Homo Sum. By Georg 

Ebers 

15 1 Honorable Mrs. Vereker, 
The. By “The 

, Duchess,” 

330 House on the Marsh, The. 

By Florence Warden. . 
500 House on the Scar. The. 

By Bertha Thomas. . . . 
98 House of Tears, A. By 

E. Downey 

17 House Party, A, and A 
Rainy June. By Ouida 
40 Hypatia. By Rev. Chas. 

Kingsley 

317 I Have Lived and Loved. 

By Mrs. Forrester .... 
139 Idle Tales. By Mrs. 
Riddell 


4S9 Idle Thoughts of an Idle 
Fellow, The. By Jerome 

K. Jerome 25 

331 In a Grass Country. By 
Mrs. H. Lovett-Cam- 

eron 25 

375 In. Durance Vile. By 

“ The Duchess” 25 

4S0 In Her Earliest Youth. 

By Tasma 25 

172 In Far Lochaber. By 

William Black 25 

22 In Peril of His Life. By 

Gaboriau 25 

521 In the Counsellor’s House. 

By E. Marlitt 25 

247 In the Golden Days. By 

Edna Lyall 25 

517 In the Schillingscourt. By 

E. Marlrtt 25 

205 la the Shires. By Sir R. 

Roberts 25 

413 India and H er N eighbors. 

By W. P. Andrew. ... 25 

398 Inner House, The. By 

Walter Besant 25 

421 Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter 

Scott, Bart 25 

93 Jack and Three Jills. By 

F. C. Philips 25 

437 Jack of Hearts. By H. 

T. Johnson 25 

6 Jane Eyre. By Charlotte 

Bronte 25 

34 Jess. By H. Rider Hag- 
gard 25 

87 Jessie. By author of 

“ Addie’s Husband”. . 25 

539 Jezebel’s Friends. By 

Dora Russell 25 

25 John Halifax. By Miss 

Mulock 25 

133 The Johnson Manor. By 

James Kent 25 

465 Joshua : A Biblical Pic- 
ture. By Georg Ebers 25 
405 Judgment of God, A. By 

E. Warner 25 

374 June. By Mrs. Forrester 25 
292 Kidnapped. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson 25 


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6 


HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


477 Kilburns, The. By Annie 

Thomas 25 

158 Killed in the Open. By 

Mrs. Edward Kennard 25 
313 King Arthur. By Miss 

Mulock 25 

1 19 King or Knave. By R. S. 

Francillon 25 

31 King Solomon’s Mines. 

By H. Rider Haggard 25 
254 Kit Wyndham. By Frank 

Barrett 25 

269 Knight-Errant. By Edna 

Lyall 25 

203 Ladies’ Gallery, The. By 
Justin McCarthy and 

Mrs. Campbell 25 

27 Lady Audley’s Secret. By 

Miss M. E. Braddon. . 25 

289 Lady Branksmere. By 

“The Duchess” 25 

351 Lady Diana’s Pride. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

482 Lady Egeria, The. By 

J. B. Harwood 25 

452 Lady Grace. By Mrs. 

Henry Wood 25 

16 Lady Valworth’s Dia- 
monds, and The Haun- 
ted Chamber. By “ The 

Duchess” 25 

460 Lady of the Lake, The. 

By Sir Walter Scott, 

Bart 25 

271 Lament of Dives, The. 

By Walter Besant .... 25 

239 Last Coup, The. By Haw- 
ley Smart 25 

454 Last Days of , Pompeii, 

The. By Bulwer Lytton 25 
156 Led Astray. By Octave 

Feuillet 25 

143 Legacy of Cain. By Wilkie 

Collins 25 

531 Lenore Von Tollen. By 

W. Heimburg 25 

459 Life Interest, A. By Mrs. 

Alexander 25 

253 Life Sentence, A. By 

Adeline Sargeant 25 


Lightly Lost. By Hawley 

Smart 25 

Lime Kiln Club. By M. 

Quad 25 

Little Chatelaine, The. 

By Earl of Desart .... 25 

Little Mrs. Murray. By 

Philips 25 

Little Tu’penny. By S. 

Baring Gould 25 

Living or Dead. By Hugh 

Conway 25 

Lodge by the Sea. By 
Mrs. Lovett Cameron 25 
Logie Town. By Sarah 

Tytler 25 

Lord Elesmere’s Wife. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

Lord and Lady Piccadilly. 

By Earl of Desart 25 

Lord Lynne’s Choice. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

Lost Wife, A. By Mrs. 

H. Lovett Cameron .. 25 

Love’s a Tyrant. By Annie 

Thomas 25 

Love of al.ady. The. By 

Annie Thomas 25 

Lovell’s Whim. By Shir- 
ley Smith 25 

Loys, Lord Beresford. By 

“ The Duchess ” 25 

Maddoxes. The. By Miss 

Jean Middlemas 25 

Madolin’s I. over. By 

Bertha M. Clay 25 

Maiden All Forlorn, A. 

By “ The Duchess”... 25 
Maiwa’s Revenge. By 

Haggard 25 

Manhunter, The. By Dick 

Donovan 25 

Man She Cared For, The. 

By F. W. Robinson . . 25 

March in the Ranks, A. 

By Jessie Fothergill .. 25 

Marcia. ByW.E. Norris 25 
Marjorie. By Bertha M. 

Clay 25 

Mark of Cain, The. By 
Andrew Lang 25 


214 

II 

483 

200 

345 

314 

212 

167 

407 

249 

417 

242 

281 

505 

69 

377 

199 

419 

382 

153 

204 

164 

278 

£36 

26 

306 


HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


7 


243 Marooned. By W. Clark 

Russell 

104 Marvel. By “The 

Duchess” 

451 Masaniello; or, The Fisher- 
man of Naples. By 

Alex. Dumas 

370 Master of the Mine, The. 

By Robert Buchanan . . 
328 Master Passion, The. By 

Florence Marryat 

207 Match of the Season, The. 
By Mrs. Alexander 

Fraser 

260 Matron or Maid? By 

Mrs. Kennard 

372 Matt : A Tale of a Cara- 
van. By Robert Bu- 
chanan 

31 1 Mayor of Casterbridge, 
The. By Thomas Hardy 
88 Memories of Men Who 
Saved the Union. By 

Donn Piatt 

293 Mental Struggle, A. By 

“ The Duchess” 

529 Merle’s Crusade. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey 

37 Merry Men, The. By 

Stevenson 

57 Middlemarch. By George 

Eliot 

388 Mignon. By Mrs. For- 
rester 

" 418 Mill on the Floss, The. 

Eliot 

125 Minister’s Secret, The. 

By Kate Tannatt Woods 
137 Miracle Gold. By Richard 

Dowling 

472 Misadventure. By W. E. 

N orris 

81 Modern Circe, A. By 

“ The Duchess” 

103 Modern Magician, A. By 

J. F. Malloy 

213 Mollie Darling. By Lady 

Howard 

35 Molly Bawn. By “The 
Duchess ” 


138 Molly’s Story. By Frank 

Merry field 25 

457 Mona’s Choice. By Mrs. 

Alexander 25 

61 Monsieur Lecoq. By E. 

Gaboriau 50 

2 Moonstone, The. By 

Collins 25 

3 Moths. By Ouida 25 

272 Mount Eden. By Florence 

Marryat 25 

410 Mr. Fortescue. An An- 
dean Romance. By 

William Westall 25 

487 Mr. Stranger’s Sealed 
Packet. By Hugh Mac- 

Coll , 25 

275 Mrs. Bob. Byjohn Strange 

Winter 25 

39 Mrs. Geoffrey. By “ The 

Duchess” 25 

145 Mrs. Rumbold’s Secret. 

By K. S. Macquoid. . . 25 

399 My Fellow Laborer. By 

H . Rider Haggard. ... 25 

528 My Heart’s Darling. By 

W. Heimburg 25 

1 15 My Husband and I. By 

Count Lyof Tolstoi .. . . 25 

302 My Friend Jim. By W. 

E. Norris 25 

378 My Lord and My Lady. 

By Mrs. Forrester .... 25 


470 Mynn’s Mystery, The. By 

George Manville Fenn. 25 
383 Mystery of Colde Fell, 

The. By Bertha M. 


Clay 25 

383 Mystery of a Hansom Cab, 
The. By Fergus W. 

Hume 25 

56 Mysteries of Paris, The. 

By Eugene Sue. Com- 
plete in I volume 50 

123 Mystery Still. A. By For- 
tune Du Boisgobey .. . . 25 

215 Neck or Nothing. By 

Mrs. Lovett Cameron.. 25 
312 New Arabian Nights. By 

Robert Louis Stevenson 25 


25 

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25 


HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY (continued). 


373 Night of the Third Ult., 

The. By H. F. Wood 25 
loi Not Like Other Girls, By 

Rosa Nouchette Carey. 25 
177 Not To Be Won. By 


Mrs. Lenox Bell 25 

469 Nurse Revel’s Mistake. 

By Florence Warden,. 25 
282 Ocean Tragedy, An. By 

W. Clarke Russell 25 

107 Octoroon, The. By Mrs. 

M. E. Braddon 25 

128 Old Blazer’s Hero. By 

David Christie Murray 25 
440 Old Ma’m’selle’s Secret. 

By E. Marlitt 25 

58 Old Myddleton’s Money 

By Mary Cecil Hay 25 

68 Oliver T wist. By Charles 

Dickens 25 

396 On Her Wedding Morn. 

By Bertha M. Clay 25 

78 On the Scent. By Lady 

Margaret Majendie.... 25 

320 Once Again. By Mrs. 

Forrester 25 

327 One Thing Needful. By 

M. E. Braddon 25 

105 One Traveller Returns. 

By David Christie Mur- 
ray 25 

522 Only a Word. By Georg 

Ebers 25 


106 Only the Governess. By 


Rosa Nouchette Carey. 25 
541 Other Man’s Wife, The. 

By John Strange Winter 25 
20 Other People’s Money. 

By Gaboriau 25 

118 Othmar. By Ouida . . . . 25 

322 Outsider, The. By Haw- 
ley Smart. . . 25 

120 Pascarel. By Ouida. ... 25 ’ 

1 14 Passenger from Scotland 
Yard, The. By H. F. 

Wood 25 

279 Passion’s Slave. By 

Richard Ashe King.. . . 25 

436 PastonCarew, Millionaire 
and Miser. By Mrs. E. 

Lynn Linton 25 


Peck’s Bad Boy and His 


Pa. By Geo. W. Peck 25 
Peck’s Fun. By Geo. W. 

Peck 25 

Peck’s Irish Friend, Phe- 
lan Geogehan. By Geo. 

W. Peck 25 

Peck’s Sunshine. By Geo. 

W. Peck 25 

Penance of John Logan. 

By William Black 25 

Peril of Richard Pardon, 

The. By B. L. Farjeon 25 
Phantom City, The. By 

William Westall 25 

Phantom ’Rickshaw, The. 

By Rudyard Kipling. . 25 

Phra the Phoenician. By 
Edwin Lester Arnold 25 
Phyllis. By “The 

Duchess” 25 

Plain Tales from the Hills. 

By Rudyard Kipling . . 25 

Polish Princess, The. By 

I. I. Kraszewski 25 

Portia. By “The 

Dachess” 25 

Pretty Miss Bellew. By 

T. Gift 25 

Prince Charming. By the 
Author of “A Great 

Mistake ”... 25 

Prince Fortunatus. By 

Wm. Black 25 

Prince of Darkness, A. 

By Florence Warden,. 25 

Princess Napraxine. By 

Ouida 25 

Princess of the Moor, The. 

By E. Marlitt 25 

Professor, The. By Char- 
lotte Bronte 25 

Put Yourself in Plis Place. 

By Charles Reade ... 25 

Queen’s Token, The. By 

Mrs. Hoey 25 

Queer Race, A. By Will- 
iam Westall 25 

Quite Another Story. By 

Jean Ingelow 25 

Rabbi’s Spell, The. By 
Stuart C. Cumberland. 25 


5 

28 

84 

7 

244 

193 

411 

504 

537 

15 

499 

415 

371 

196 

397 

28.3 

38.5 

431 

527 

334 

426 

201 

462 

511 

356 



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OF CONGRESS 


